Beautiful Scars
by chrissytingting
Summary: One war. One Veela. One choice. One chance. Things change when Draco Malfoy is forced to embrace his Veela heritage... and his mate, who just so happens to be Hermione Granger. Veela!Draco
1. Veela in Your Heart

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. No profit is being made out of this story, all credit goes to J.K. Rowling.

**WARNING: There is a strong usage of swears throughout the story.**

**Author's Notes: **Greetings, readers of Harry Potter fanfiction! Here is my first Dramione! My plan for this story is for it to come out to be novel length and a success! _**Please review if you think I should continue!**_Without your reviews, I will _not _continue this!

I _am _aware that I should be working on 'Time of our Destiny', a Tomione fic. I promise that updating for that story will not slow (hopefully)! This story is slightly alike to the other. Please check that story out as well, and leave a comment or so for me when you do!

**Beautiful Scars**

_By Chrissytingting_

"_Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones"- Mignon McLaughlin _

_Dark times were what lay ahead. Times that were filled with screams, horrors, and pain. Times that were filled with cloaking blackness, smothering smoke, and hearts of ebony. _

_But even as terror fills the eyes of many in both the Wizarding and Muggle World, little slivers of light can still break through the layers of persistent obsidian stone. Nothing can break the bonds of these slivers of light, because, when these lights are in the purest form, they can be immortal. _

_What are these slivers of light?_

_It can be known as love. _

_Love is not simply affection, allure, or attraction. Love is not simply care, kindness, and sympathy. Love, in its truest form, is something in which people would kill to have and would die if broken. _

_Veela are a race of semi-human, semi-magical creatures reminiscent of the Sirens of Greek mythology. They appear to be beautiful and young. Their voices hypnotize as it flows with a magical cadence, and their beauty dazzles and creates affection with only one glance. _

_Veela were brought into the world when many centuries ago, darkness ruled. With the power of Veela, they recreated affection. But shallow affection is a burden Veela must carry, and to lift the loneliness off of these magical creatures, all Veela are presented with soul-mates that will live with them, wholly and truthfully, for life. _

O

Draco Malfoy hated his life. After failing what the Dark Lord had given to him as a task, he had been crucioed countlessly, writhing in pain under his master's wand. He now sat on a forest-green leather couch in his mother's sitting room, shaking as the after-effect of the Cruciatus Curse.

He had failed to kill Professor Albus Dumbledore even when he had disarmed him and held the headmaster as point-blank. Instead, Severus Snape had to step in, undoubtedly because of the Unbreakable Vow he made and to make up for his absence in the past.

Narcissa Malfoy was fussing over her son, dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth and draping blankets over his body as he shivered non-stop. Draco swore that it was nearly every minute that a house-elf would appear to give him more food, _again, _and some more water, _again, _and another towel.

_Again. _

She kept on cooing soft words and coaxing him that 'everything was all right' as if he was a crying seven-year-old.

Draco gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He loved his mother, don't get him wrong, but sometimes, she just had to lay off. He was feeling unmanly as his mother flitted all over the place like some hummingbird, her presence hovering over him nearly _all the time. _

But he didn't want to hurt her feelings.

He could feel her care and love for him nearly rolling off of her shoulders, dropping her pride as she did everything to make him feel better.

His father, on the other hand, would not stoop to such a level just to help him revive himself from the Cruciatus Curse. Lucius Malfoy was much too proud and arrogant for that. He was utterly disappointed at his son's behavior, and he had already apologized to his Lord a million times over.

Draco knew that his father wasn't as bad as some other pureblood men. His father nearly never hit him, never hurt him, unlike Theo, who was less that fortunate to have a father that had violent tendencies and went out of his way to use Theo as an outlet for his anger.

Finally, his mother had left him to his own accords. With a kiss on the forehead and murmurs of more encouragement, his mother slipped out of the room silently, expecting him to rest, he assumed.

Draco heard the front door click open, could feel the hum of the magic and wards of the Manor as the door closed. He cocked his head to one side perceptively and listened to his father's authoritive voice echo through the Front Hall.

"He needs to know, Narcissa. We've stalled for too long."

"Lucius... I want to protect him from this."

"He is not a little boy anymore, and deserves to know the truth!"

The first thought that entered Draco's mind was how he heard their conversation from such a distance. Here he was, in his mother's sitting room, in the upper floors on the east wing and he could hear all the way to the Grand Entrance? Was that possible? Was that _normal? _

The second thought that penetrated his mind was of what his parents were hiding from him. What was so clandestine that his mother thought would put himself in danger with?

There were footsteps leading to his room now, one that was loud and sharp (Lucius') and one that was dainty and soft (Narcissa's). The door opened slowly to show Narcissa's pale and beautiful face, poking through to check if he was asleep or not. They were greeted by his troubled expression, blonde eyebrows knit together in thought.

Narcissa opened the door wider to show Lucius Malfoy, who stood with a clenched jaw and stiff figure. They both entered slowly, closing the door quietly before turning to their only son.

Narcissa was a beautiful lady. She had the perfect white-blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and flawless pale skin. Her figure was slender and her character was kind. But even so, Draco found himself hating the protectiveness of his mother. However kind and caring she was, she was still much too protecting of her 'little child'.

"Draco, there's something that we need to tell you," she said softly, sitting down next to him.

He felt the couch shift slightly at the additional weight, and he scooted over to once side to allow her more room. "I know. I heard," he answered bluntly.

Draco saw his mother and father share a look, a knowing expression, before his mother spoke again.

"How much do you know about Veelas, Draco?" Narcissa asked, touching his arm slightly.

Draco growled. What did this have to do with anything? "They are creatures that charm people. They have one mate for a lifetime, and their mates take up on the Veela's powers too."

Narcissa nodded slowly, watching his every action. "Veelas go way back in lineage. Only some people of a Veela lineage actually _are _a Veela. The Noble House of Black stretches far back to the first wizards and witches."

"Somewhere along the lineage," Lucius continued for his mother, "a Veela added her blood to our family. It continued along for centuries, a select few turning out to be full Veela as well."

"You… You're not saying that _you _are part of the 'somewhere along the lineage'?"

Narcissa cleared her throat. "I am a Veela, Draco. A full one at that. You're only one half Veela, however, because you are my descendent and a male."

Time stopped. There was absolute silence as mother and father waited for their volatile son to explode. The grandfather clock ticked away the seconds in the abrupt silence.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. _

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged worried looks.

_Tick. _

Another concerned look.

_Tock. _

"_So I'm some fucking banshee?" _Draco screeched, leaping up and scattering all of the blankets that Narcissa had previously laid over him. "When did you think you'd tell me this? When I'm twenty? Thirty? I think I _deserve _to know if I'm some _Veela–_"

"Calm yourself, boy!" Lucius roared, silencing his son quite effectively.

There was a beat of silence before Narcissa spoke, her hand cupping her throat as she murmured, "I know that you are disappointed, Draco. But there are many advantages as to being a Veela. They are quite sexual creatures and attract many, if not all, people from the opposite sex. You will find your senses tripled, strength doubled, and even your life span lengthened. Your magic will be stronger than ever before."

Draco clenched his fists and forced himself to swallow his anger. After taking several deep breaths, he spoke out of his teeth: "What is this 'dangerous' part of being a Veela?"

Narcissa blinked. "It is as good as it is dangerous. You must find your mate. Without your mate, you will die in heartbreak and pain. You must protect your mate forever and with your true heart. And because of this, a male Veela has a possessive streak for their mate." Her hand found Lucius' and they intertwined their fingers.

"So I'll _die _if I don't find this girl?"

"Precisely."

Draco groaned. "So how do I find her? What if she's some girl at Hogwarts who fled after the Dark Lord's rising?" Another pause. "What if she's a mudblood?"

"You must find her, Draco, no matter what." Now his mother merely looked anxious and concerned. "You have to."

"And if she's a mudblood?" he repeated agitatedly.

Lucius answered this one with a calm expression on his face, undoubtedly masking his sneer. "Your mate is the true and equal partner of you, Draco. If she is a mudblood, she would be talented and your perfect match. We shan't need to worry," he said smoothly.

Narcissa lightly patted Draco's head, pretending that she didn't notice how he ducked away and muttered under his breath: 'this isn't a frickin petting zoo', and said, "be careful of whom you trust, Draco. Veela are strong and powerful, which is why the Dark Lord will favor you."

O

Hermione sighed as she lay against tree. The rough bark grated on her cold skin every time she shifted, and she had finally taken to resting with her hands pillowing her right cheek.

It had already been a week since she, Harry, and Ron fled Hogwarts and left the Burrow. Winter was on the rise, and every day, the nights grew colder. Frost greeted them in the morning, and their breaths came out in billows. They constantly shivered at night, digging deep inside their sleeping bags for warmth and lighting a fire only when it was crucial.

"Hey, Mione," Harry's voice greeted her with the accompanying crunch under his feet as he walked towards her. His startling green eyes were rimmed with dark spots, a result of restless sleeping nights.

"Harry," she answered with a sigh. She sat up and pressed her hands onto her rosy cheeks. "How's Ron?"

The boy shrugged, running his fingers through his raven hair. "He just needs some more food. Otherwise, he's fine."

They said in companionable silence, watching the leaves fall from the trees and litter the ground with flaming colors. When a cold breeze filtered through the fringe of trees and Hermione shivered, Harry put an arm around her, offering body heat as he did, and she lay her head on her shoulder.

Harry was like a brother to her. In that moment, she felt as if he were her older brother, protecting her through no matter what and caring for her as much as family would. Right then and there, she realized that Harry and her were now much more alike than before: they had no real family to turn to anymore.

Just days after Hermione and the rest of the Golden Trio fled from Hogwarts, news had come out that the Grangers had been attacked by the Death Eaters. The Dark Mark now hovered over their house, green wisps of dark magic curling around the frame as if they were fetters binding the house to its darkness.

Hermione had cried the entire day, mourning the loss of her parents. Sometimes, she would cry on Ron's shoulders, and others, Harry's arms were around her, comforting her, assuring her that everything would be alright.

Harry had every reason to desire for a true family the most. Though the Weasleys treated Harry and Hermione like family, their truest loyalties were to their own blood.

Hermione realized that now she had lost her family, she had become closer to Harry than she had ever become. They shared the pain of feeling utterly alone.

The tent's opening suddenly flung open and showed Ron, who had a grimace on his face and was clutching his stomach. "So… hungry!" he moaned, his stomach growling to prove his point.

You could literally see Ron assessing the position that Harry and Hermione were in, Harry's arms around Hermione and Hermione's head on his shoulder. You could see his accusing look appearing nearly immediately after he took this picture in.

"So, you two are getting cozy out here, aren't you?" Ron demanded, his face reddening as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a tree.

Hermione immediately sat up. "Ron, we were just cold!"

Ron barked a laugh. "Then why didn't you two just come inside? Or cast a Warming spell on yourselves?"

"We didn't go inside because you kept on complaining about the lack of food! We didn't use a Warming spell just because… We're _friends, _Ronald!" Hermione answered indignantly. Over the last couple of days, Ron had been in the worst of his moods. He had moped around and whined for countless hours, and his temper rose unbelievably fast. She had dealt with him for so long now, she simply couldn't take it any more.

Ron sighed. "We aren't getting _anything _done! We can't find any Horcruxes, and we certainly aren't destroying any! We have _no leads, _and all we're doing is suffering in the cold with empty stomachs!" He wrung his hands in exasperation and impatience, pacing about as he did.

When Hermione opened her mouth to reply, he cut her off sharply with a: "Don't deny it, Hermione! You even said so yourself that you were disappointed!"

Hermione shook her head furiously. "Even so, _Ronald, _we should still keep on trying! We can't simply give up!"

Ron plastered a sneer on his face, kicking a stone a couple yards down. "I don't know about you, Mione, but I'm going home, where it's all warm and comfortable! We aren't getting anything done by suffering out here with Harry!" He whirled around and began walking towards the borders of Hermione's meticulous wards.

"Ron! Stop! You're destroying all of the wards! Ron!" Hermione screamed, shooting straight up and sprinting towards him. She heard Harry's footsteps trailing behind her, and then saw Harry as his longer legs overtook hers.

The Weasley passed the lines of the wards, breaking all of them as soon as he stepped out of the circle of protection. "So you're siding with _him?" _

He received no answer as Harry and Hermione froze, eyes widening suddenly with fear and bodies freezing on the spot, identical expressions of 'deer caught in headlights'.

"Ron," Harry said in a low voice. "Ron, behind you."

The red-headed boy turned around slowly, his sneer quickly melting off of his face and being replaced with fear as he saw the advancing people.

They were all cloaked in black, moving like shadows in the wind, as they stalked forward like a predator gaining in on its prey. Smothering their faces were masks, most of them silver with intricate lines swirling around it, with a select few that had rose gold ones.

"Now, now, Potter," the cold drawl of Lucius Malfoy greeted them as the pale man stepped forward, removing his mask to show his own patented Malfoy smirk. "Greetings, once again."

Harry gripped his wand tighter around his hand, Ron backing up so that he was standing next to the rest of the Golden Trio.

"How impolite, not greeting your superiors," the Death Eater sneered. "But then again, we can't expect much from a person who managed to become 'friends' with a blood-traitor and a mudblood."

All three of them stiffened from those insults, mentally counting the five Death Eaters that were advancing on them.

"Father," one of them hissed, pushing the robe back to show his platinum hair. He whipped off his rose gold mask to reveal Draco Malfoy, silver eyes darkening to black. "Father."

Lucius turned to his son, a questioning look on his face.  
"It's her. I can smell it," Draco snarled, closing his eyes and lifting up his face to sniff the air. "I know it."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, his head turning ever so slowly, as if on gears, to turn to stare straight at Hermione Granger. "The mudblood?"

Draco growled. "Don't you dare." His body had taken a wild, predatory stance, and once he turned to stare at his father, the air around them went down a hundred degrees.

The Golden Trio glanced at each other, inching away slowly as they did. Ron immediately grabbed Hermione's wrist on instinct, pulling her back.

Draco's eyes snapped to the place where Ron's hands touched Hermione's skin, eyes narrowing and sliding into a position where he looked like he was about to pounce. "Get your hands off of her."

"Is this a joke?" Ron muttered, still holding Hermione's arm as they continued to back away as the Death Eaters advanced.

"Hands. Off," Draco articulated both words, eyes darkening to a pitch black as he began to tremble. _"Now." _

Ron refused to let go.

In a flurry of black, Draco launched himself across the clearing, covering the distance in between himself and the Weasley easily before knocking Ron over, hitting with his fists, completely forgetting the use of his wand. All he saw was red as he pounded the Weasel endlessly, hitting him with no mercy. Draco vaguely heard his father shout a shielding spell towards him, blocking him from whatever spell Potter had decided to stop him with.

"Draco! We must leave!" Lucius called, using his most authoritive voice to try to reign in his son's Veela powers. "Control yourself!"

Draco paused momentarily from his assault, taking a deep breath before grabbing Hermione and apparating away, hearing Potter and Weasley shout at them to stop.

**Author's Notes: **Here is the first chapter of this story! I hope you all liked it… Give me your feedback and comments! What did you think? **Please review if you want me to continue!**


	2. Tears on Her Cheek

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you all for your lovely reviews! This is probably my most successful story so far… I'm so happy! So yes, I've temporarily decided to continue this. This chapter will show Hermione, Draco, and the rest of the Death Eater's reaction to Draco's mate. I hope you all continue to read and review, and that you enjoy this chapter! Please remember to leave a comment for me!

_Reviewers: Anna Flair, Predicted Anomie, HeartsofNarnia, stuart7, Rozu Kebo Seimei, Erica, Luna Rei Harmony, jesusfreak29, Panther Eyes, Rozabaksh, Chellesmere, Violet-eyed-Tiger4, Loslote, N3Mo, soccershadow3, Tempted Sacrifice, seddielover12, vampirelover2009, unicorngirl14, KiRa-Queen oF tHe DEAD, Slytherin Princess 1313, Abbypotter61234, luckyclover18, ivorynightfall, xXx Taz xXx, cullen's pet, LadyBookworm80, evie, jdlb, vswimming12 _

Shout-out to _Luna Rei Harmony: _Thank you so very much! That is one of the most encouraging and praising review I have ever heard!

O

Draco groaned, stuffing his head into his hands as he sat on the wooden bench. After capturing Hermione and putting up quite a fight when Lucius ordered for five Death Eaters to take Hermione into a guest room, he had been hauled away and quickly rationalized to understand the situation.

He couldn't believe that Hermione _bloody _Granger was his mate.

Out of all people, out of all _mudbloods _in the world, it had to be Granger. Granger, the girl who had absolutely loathed him since the day they've met. Granger, who used to be that buck-toothed bushy-haired Gryffindor…

Though he could admit that she was quite beautiful now. Her hair was voluminous, but it was sleek and gave her a wild look that he seemed to like more than the greasiness of hair products. Her teeth were perfectly straight and pearly-white, and her skin was unblemished and flawless. And her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes, showed intelligence and glimmered even in the minimal light of a silvery grey winter.

He realized that he really had no choice at all.

He was so whipped.

The _veela _in a person chooses the mate, not the human. He had no choice. His life was in that girl's hands, whether he wanted it or not. If she did not stay with him for _life, _he was a dead man.

So here he stood, in the study room. The cherry-wood desk was littered with papers and quills, half of the desk organized while the other was scattered. Among the walls were bookcases full of tomes and such, all in which Draco had read to learn the Malfoy history.

"Draco." Lucius' lips were pressed into a thin line as he glowered at the cold slate stones that lined the wall. His grey eyes were intense yet calm, smoldering yet freezing. The eldest Malfoy turned on his heel to turn to stare at his heir.

Draco lifted his chin up haughtily, jaw set and identical eyes flashing back at the challenge. "Father," he answered curtly.

There was a beat of silence after his open arrogance before Lucius spoke in a grave and withering voice: "I cannot believe that out of all people to choose, you chose Granger… a _muggle-born." _

The young Malfoy noticed that his father did not use the word 'mudblood'. He probably feared that he was going to attack him… the newfound power felt strangely good in his hands.

While Lucius Malfoy was merely the mate of a veela, Draco had the fully fledged power of a half-veela half-human. His senses were triple of his fathers, though it was doubly muted compared to his mother's. Though a Veela's powers transfers to their mate after the Marking, their mate thoroughly cannot fight against another pure Veela blooded person and live to tell the story.

"I am sure that you are aware of the fact that _I _did not simply 'choose' Granger," Draco answered, his voice equally condescending. "You out of all people should know. Did Mother choose you?" he taunted.

Lucius narrowed his ice-cold gaze at him, showing that he was treading on a thin line. They continued with their staring contest, grey clashing with grey, before Macnair knocked on the wooden door, swinging it open carelessly before there was a single reaction.

"Thy Lord wants to speak to you," Macnair pronounced, a smirk gracing his dark features. He waved his arm around at the spacious room. "Better take one last look around this room– may be the last time you'll ever see anything." He turned a one-eighty, chuckling darkly and muttering under his breath: "And to think that the Malfoys would ever sink that low!"

Lucius, having heard this statement with his sharpened senses, ground his teeth together and stalked after the man, as silent as a predator might stalk his prey. Macnair, on the other hand, thumped his way across the hall, heavy boots clunking against the hard-wood floor as chains rattled along his belt.

He knocked on the door three times, all articulate knocks, though a visible tremble was discernable on his shaking, glove-covered hands.

"Come in."

The voice was as cold as ice, slicing through the air, and as sharp as a blade might be, sinking into bloodied flesh. Authority and conviction punctuated both words easily, and it was simple to detect who was master and who was follower. Though the tone was pleasant enough, there was an underlying mocking edge, as if there was something that they found truly amusing, and taunting a piece of prey to come forward.

The doors slipped open with ease, the hinges freshly oiled. Not a squeak retained from the rusty nails, and both doors opened to reveal a cold grey room. An emerald green rug coated the polished silver floors, leading to a silver throne. The throne itself was immaculate and perfect: impressive silver melded to bend and curl like a snake's and emeralds studding the arms to show royalty.

But on that throne was one of the most horrifying creatures on Earth. With the palest skin that it was nearly ailing, Lord Voldemort sat with arrogance and an air of leadership, snake eyes glittering with malice and as red as rubies and blood. With the lack of a nose, he strongly resembled a snake, curling upon his throne with every look of cunningness and slyness graced upon his features. His unnaturally long fingers curled over the arm of the chair, tapping impatiently as it did. A black cloak streamed down to the ground, the back of it longer than the front.

The two Malfoys slipped into the room, strolling forward and bowing respectively, heads nearly touch the ground at the weight of their respect.

"Rise."

They rose, first to kneeling position, and then to standing posture. Both stood with ramrod straight backs and perfect elegance and grace, faces wiped expressionless and hard to decipher. After a moment, their Master began to laugh.

It was not of warm laughter that washed over the echoing room. Instead, a cold, manic chuckle resonated through the halls, full of spite and ominous warnings. Danger was spelt out in ever decibel, every vibration and sound that spewed out of his mouth. His pale hands clasped together and he clapped.

_Clap._

_Clap. _The sound was sharp against the otherwise silent room. The other occupants, seven other Death Eaters, were utterly silent, not daring to breathe a single word.

"How I applaud you," He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hissed, "To be such a _failure." _His ruby eyes landed first on Lucius Malfoy, who now had his head slightly inclined and bowed out of shame. "Ah, Lucius, a cunning folk you are! You have already apologized _countlessly _of your son's cowardly behavior. Do you plan to apologize for his choice of mate?"

The last word rang in the room like a laden, full of amusement and challenge.

Lucius bowed his head, some strands of silvery-white blonde hair falling forward as he did. "I do. I must say that my son's lack of good sense is bewildering and startlingly shameful."

Voldemort's bloodless lips twisted into a sneer. "Is that so? 'Lack of good sense', you say. Perhaps it is not of this problem. I am aware that a Veela's mate is a Veela's equal and the most compatible person on the face of the Earth. Perhaps it is just because of his lack of good upbringing that brings him down?" The under meaning struck clearly through the audience: _Perhaps it is your fault, Lucius? _

Lucius Malfoy immediately recoiled as if he had been slapped. "My Lord… I assure that Draco has been brought up the same as any other pureblood would be." For a split second, there was fear evident in his winter-grey eyes, but with another blink, it was gone, only to be replaced with a properly respectful and otherwise indifferent expression.

"Ah, yes," Voldemort answered, focusing his intense gaze on the younger Malfoy. "You still call him your son, do you not?"

Lucius bowed his head once again. "Perhaps it is not that Draco is inferior, but Hermione Granger has special qualities to make her somewhat more worthy."

"Is that so? I was under the impression that you are a thorough believer that 'muggle-borns' are not to mingle with. Do elaborate," the Dark Lord answered, looking thoroughly amused by the situation. It was a scary expression that was plastered on his face.

"I… My Lord," Lucius said politely, subtly stalling for some time to think. "Miss Granger has been known for her intelligence and wit. Perhaps it is so that she is worthy of Draco, rather than Draco being worthy of her."

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow, turning to stare at Draco, who was standing as still as a statue. In all of Draco's glory, he truly looked like a young god, carved out of pale marble with intense grey eyes, much more impressive than even Goddess Athena's. "Tell me what you think of the… _muggle-born." _

Draco dipped his head slightly, willing himself to not pull his fingers through his hair out of habit. "I think that Granger is… exceptional. Her intelligence matches mine, and she seems to be the only one who would dare to stand up to me. She… Is a challenge that I'd like to win."

"Is that so?"

"Nevertheless, I was very surprised at my… _choice… _of mate," Draco's features were marred slightly by a grimace. "However, my life hangs on her shoulders. I will not go for death because of her dirty blood." He did realize that he was in trouble if the Dark Lord decided to kill Hermione. Without her love, he may either: 1. Die of sudden heartbreak, or 2. Go through depression (since they have not bonded yet) and then choose another person, though they would not be a 'Veela's mate'. It was as if the Sword of Damocles was hanging over his head. The story of Damocles didn't seem to quite fit the description of this situation, but all the same, it was his life that was hanging on the thread, or perhaps it was the sword that was hanging on the strand of hair, right over his head.

Voldemort looked at both Malfoy men. They were both important in his ring of Death Eaters. Out of all of them, they were the most intelligent and cunning, depending more on their minds then their own selection of spells and impulse. They were not reckless, and were known for their cunning manipulation, winning over people easily and acting as natural-born leaders.

However, he had begun to doubt them now and then. Lucius' failure in the Department of Mysteries and Draco's 'cowardice' on the Astronomy Tower was not to be overlooked. It didn't concern him as much about the young Malfoy's choice of mate… no, it bothered him more that he would be more loyal to his mate, a muggle-born, rather than him.

All the same, it was something that he would have to live with, seeing as a family of Veelas would certainly be a powerful advantage of the Dark. Drawing a finger across his lips, his blood-red eyes glittered dangerously as he murmured, "I will hand you mercy once again, Malfoy. Beware, for someday, I will not be as lenient. Dismissed."

The two Malfoys backed up, barely making a noise as they did, and then closed the door silently behind them. The moment the door closed shut with a soft 'click', Narcissa flew in from no where and was was in Lucius' arms, gripping him towards her and hugging him furiously. After a moment of awkwardness on Draco's part, his mother hauled him into their 'hugging circle'.

"I'm so glad that you're both all right!" Narcissa exclaimed, leading them away from the Meeting Room. She led them towards the Grand Entrance, her high heels clicking on the white marble ground. A silver chandelier was hanging gracefully from the high, vaulted ceilings, twining around the slivers of sparkling color like snakes and vines. Narcissa walked up the stairs, glancing back to make sure that the two men followed, and lightly trailed her pale yet elegant piano-fingers across the handrail.

"It was a close call," Lucius admitted warily, glancing at his son. "But of course, us Malfoys are important within the Dark Lord's circle, and we were given mercy," he added smoothly with a touch of pride and arrogance.

Narcissa laughed, her beautiful peals of laughter echoing and bouncing from wall to wall. It sounded like a billion of tinkling silver bells, sprinkling beautiful sound from all within the Malfoy Manor.

"Mother," Draco murmured, feeling a slight ache in his heart. Though his mother's presence greatly warmed his heartstrings, there was still something missing. The spaces in between his fingers were not filled, and his eyes longed for the beautiful sight of his mate.

Both of his parents immediately looked at him, not missing the note of longing and loneliness in his voice. They quickly glanced at each other, a small furtive and expertly quick look, before Narcissa nodded. "She's in the second guest room, the one in the East Wing."

It was all Draco could do to not immediately sprint there right away and hold Hermione in his arms. He barely noticed that suddenly, she changed from 'Potter's friend', to 'mudblood', to 'Granger', and now to 'Hermione' over the course of the years in which he had known her. He saw his mother give him a praising look, probably to admire how he was measuring his self-control.

"Come, Lucius. I must show you this new painting," Narcissa lightly intertwined her arm with her spouse's. She gave Draco a smart wink before whisking Lucius off towards the Drawing Room, giving Draco the freedom of immediately dashing towards Hermione's room.

And that was exactly what he did.

After a moment of contemplating if his parents were spying on him or not, his 'want' overpowered his will, and soon enough, he was on a full-on sprint, long legs carrying him full speed ahead. He found himself much faster than before, thanks to the extra Veela strength.

Once he stopped in front of his ex-arch-enemy's door, he paused. He knew that she would be furious. Furious enough to hit him, in fact. Luckily, his mother had thought ahead and removed the Gryffindor's wand…

Draco knocked on the door, listening for any movement within.

There was a rustle, and then a sharp: "What do you want?" said in a very Hermione growl. There was a thud against the door, and Draco drew back in surprise, realizing that she had thrown a pillow against it.

Draco curled his fingers around the diamond door-knob and pushed it open to reveal Hermione, who was sitting on the bed, arms folded across her chest with her brown eyebrows meeting together to form a 'V'. Her eyes flashed with hatred.

"Granger," Draco greeted, just keeping himself from calling her 'Hermione'.

"What do you want with me?" Hermione hissed, looking positively murderous. Her hair was disheveled in the way that she had just thrown a tantrum, and her fists were clenched to her sides. The room itself looked as if a tornado had spun through it, tables upturned, goblets shattered and bedcovers stripped.

Draco immediately turned to look at her, assessing if she had hurt herself by stepping on glass or if she had gotten a bruise amidst being in this danger zone. His eyes zeroed on a small cut on the inside of her arm, blood steadily oozing out of the slit and dripping down onto the bed.

Without a second thought, he launched himself over to her, gingerly picking up the wounded arm and placing the proper healing spells over it to seal the cut. With a quick _'scourgify', _the blood was removed and her arm was clean once again.

Hermione yanked her arm out of his grasp, glaring at him ominously. "Don't you dare even _touch _me," she hissed viciously, backing away from him. When he began to advance towards her, she screeched, "Stay _away _from me!"

"Granger," Draco pronounced her name carefully, and as he said it, he knew that he sounded as if he was talking to a four-year-old. "It don't know how much my mother told you, but you are _my mate." _

Hermione bared her teeth as she glowered at the Malfoy. "I don't _care! _You can go _die, _because I wouldn't _ever _be with a Death Eater like you!" She felt her back smack against the ivory walls, and Hermione knew that she hadn't ever felt as vulnerable as she had then. She was backed into a corner, wandless, and virtually defenseless (save for some martial art skills in which she didn't have). Draco Malfoy kept on advancing towards her. She closed her eyes, feeling her throat constrict and a lump form. Oh, she felt so… trapped. Like a vulnerable, shivering little piece of prey.

She missed Harry and Ron. Hermione knew that they would lose sleep over her capture, and that Ron would throw a fit. She prayed that they would be able to save her if she couldn't save herself. She prayed that they wouldn't get captured in the process.

Despite her efforts to swallow the lump in her throat and close off its access to the water works, a single, traitorous tear slipped out, inching down her cheekbone and then to her cheeks. A wet trail mark followed it, glistening in the candlelight.

Draco froze. A warm and salty scent had gradually formed in the air, and now, staring at his mate, he saw a tear leak out of her eye. His own heart ached, and he would've begun to tremble if not for his emotionless childhood and his training to reign back in any sort of feeling.

He had made her cry.

He had made _the Hermione Granger, _Gryffindor Lioness, strongest and most defiant person he had ever met, _cry. _

He felt so cruel.

Draco inched forward, barely stirring up any dust from the floor (if there was any) and used the pad of his thumb to lightly brush the tear away. He could see her swallow, could see how her perfect shaped eyebrows knit together at the prospect of weakness.

Suddenly, the tears didn't seem to be able to end.

Another water droplet leaked out, sliding down her cheek and slowing near the corner of her pink mouth. Intently, he brushed this tear away, lightly trailing his fingers across her lips. Her perfect rose-bud lips began to tremble, and soon, more and more tears began to stream out. Her eyes never opened.

Hermione's entire body was stiff, all muscles in action, as she stood, holding herself up but barely. She felt Malfoy put his strong arms around her and carry her to the bed, lightly placing her on it.

"Look at me," he whispered. "Just look at me. Please, Hermione." Draco didn't even recognize his own voice as he said this. He didn't think that he could ever say anything so true, so… loving.

Maybe it was because he had said it so sincerely, or perhaps it was simply because he had called her 'Hermione', but she obliged, opening her glimmering brown eyes to stare into his silver ones. Reflective tears lined her long eyelashes, sparkling like diamonds.

He stared into those eyes, those innocent beautiful eyes. They were carefully layered like a spiral, he noticed, some layers a light golden while others were dark mahogany, nearly black.

"Hermione," he murmured, lightly cupping her neck, caressing the soft skin there. "I will never hurt you. I promise to always protect you and love you forever."

The change was immediate. Hermione snapped out of her daze, leaping up and springing away from him, shaking from head to toe. She wiped away her tears hastily, lacking the tenderness in which Draco had as he meticulously brushed away all the water marks.

Hermione backed away from him, moving towards the door. She shook her head fervently, blinking spastically at him as if she was trying to blink him away. "No… no. You hate me. You are vile and cruel! You are a Death Eater who kills innocent people! You are a murderer who enjoys hearing a little child's pain and screams!" her voice rose steadily, feeding herself more strength as she went on. "I will _never _love you… I will never even _like _you! You are my enemy, and always will be!_ I hate you!" _Hermione flung the words out like knives, all of them hitting its mark: his heart.

Draco growled in exasperation as she suddenly ducked out of the room, fleeing the room as soon as he understood what her words meant.

He knew that he didn't love her. No, it was much too soon for that. He didn't even know if he would ever love her.

But Draco knew that he had an obsession, an infatuation, a _need _for her presence.

And he was going to let her know that she was his.

**Author's Notes: **So here is chapter two! I hope you guys enjoyed this… Dramione fanfiction was much harder and different than I expected. It's too easy to get out of character… tell me what you thought! **Please review! **


	3. Don't Scream

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Harry Potter'. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made from this fic.

**Author's Notes: **Yes, chapter three is here! It turned out that I realized that I haven't really planned this story out that well… my other story was basically planned before I even began writing… so stick with me here, and I'll do my very best! I'm kind of… stuck right now. Sort of like… in a pickle. Yes, a pickle. Anyhow… Thank you for the reviews! I depend on reviews and feedback to keep me going… so please do leave a note as motivation or as constructive criticism! If you can take the time to put this story on story alert, then you can click the beautiful blue button that says 'Review this chapter'… so… **Please review! **

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O

Hermione immediately sprinted down the perfectly polished hallway, taking a sharp right, a left, another left, and nearly trampling down a small spiral staircase. She pushed herself hard against the cold wall, shivering as the frostiness came in contact with her skin and numbed it entirely. Cold was a strange part of life. At the hottest temperatures, you'd desire for it, and at the coldest point, it felt as if it were burning off your skin.

For the strangest reason, the thought of coldness had provoked a quote to pop into her information-crammed head: _"'Among men and women, those in love do not always announce themselves with declarations and vows. But they are the ones who weep when you're gone. Who miss you every single night, especially when the sky is so deep and beautiful and the ground is so very cold'… Alice Hoffman."_

Hermione thought back to Malfoy. She simply could not, _could not, _understand his intentions. The way he treated her at one point completely contradicted to another.

From first to fifth year, he would've hexed her into the next century and sent a string of dark curses hurling her way if not for the sake and fear of Azkaban prison. Of course, she could understand this quite perfectly. Azkaban was a dark place, filled with looming shadows of cloaked Dementors that immediately wisp away all glowing thoughts of happiness and nothing but cold, stone slabs of prison. There would be no light, she thought, and there would be no hope for those who indulge within.

She remembered how Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped Azkaban, no doubt with some fellow help… She shivered to think about the heavy lidded Death Eaters with the wildest black curly hair, sneering and jeering at her. Hermione wondered if Malfoy would protect her against such people…

Which only brought her back to her current situation.

She had undoubtedly noticed how possessive and… _desirous… _Malfoy was of her, proven in the midst of a dark, tree inhabited forest. Hermione had never taken to studying the original species of Veela, but she did remember doing some light reading within an ancient book when Fleur Delacour began weaving affection into the heartstrings of all males with one flourish. And she most certainly remembered the multiple passages that stated of a Veela's possessiveness over his/her mate.

Which, once again, led to how he had recently treated her. He had claimed love to her, and she knew with one glance that it was not true. He had wiped away her tears and looked genuinely caring. But she was not to trust such a Slytherin. She was not to trust her enemy. She was not to trust a _Death Eater. _

Hermione lightly crept down the stairs, barely making any noise as she inched her way down. No pounding footsteps followed her. After another minute or two of holding her breath in anticipation, she began to breathe once again.

She would escape. After some days of planning, Hermione concluded, she would make a move and run away from this goddamned place. It would have to be carefully structured, of course, for her runaway attempt. She could not run straight into the wards of the Manor, no one could be able to see or hear her, and after leaving the boundaries of the Manor, she could not simply apparate, for fear of the Dark would track her down. It was just a paranoid thought, but if all came down to this one problem, she would risk apparating to run away. This brought on an entire new round of questions. How would she go to Harry and Ron without leading the Dark there? How would she be able to break their wards without her two best friends striking her down, unknowing whom she is?

Perhaps they would save her.

Hermione knew she had a noble side and a side that vouched for her own feelings and survival. Her noble side screamed at her that Harry and Ron shouldn't try to rescue her, that the Death Eaters might catch them and make the situation worse. Yet, she was unable to silence her selfish feelings as it whispered slyly: _Yes, but do you want them to forget you? Now how would that feel, little princess? Your two best friends deserting you at the moment you needed them the most… after all, you _are _the one who's helped them through so many problems… _And in her mind's eye, she saw brief flashes of herself coming to the rescue: helping Harry get past the obstacles to get the Sorcerer's Stone, solving the riddle of the Basilisk, rescuing Sirius, helping him at the Goblet of Fire, fighting off Umbridge…

The voices that drifted down from below her startled her out of her own thoughts, making Hermione freeze suddenly before treading lightly on the marble floor, following the sound.

As she walked further down the hallway, she noticed the voices fading. Were the people walking away or was she missing the target? After a moment of debating, her war senses told her that she was missing the target, and she silently moved backwards a couple of steps, cocking her head to one side like a cat. Perceptively, she listened as the sound neared once again, and then faded. She took two steps forward. Here was the loudest point.

"Lucius–" It was Narcissa, she recognized immediately. Only Mrs. Malfoy had that smooth and aristocratic of a voice, having heard her moments ago. Mrs. Malfoy was not that bad of a woman, Hermione admitted grudgingly, as if someone on the Dark Side was not allowed to be exceptional. The Malfoy woman had tried to soothe her and calm her down, explaining that no one would hurt her and how this only happened because Draco was a Veela.

At first, Hermione had been completely hysterical, screaming at the older woman and throwing quite a fit, rainbow shards of glass shattering as it collided against the once immaculate walls.

After a long session of calming, Hermione had embarrassedly shrunk back, listening on with slight horror at Narcissa Malfoy's tale.

So here, she immediately noted the voice.

"Lucius, we _must _provide more protection for Draco and Miss Granger. They may be in dire–"

"_Narcissa." _This was most certainly Lucius Malfoy, his voice cold yet calm: a deadly kind of quiet that only the most perceptive people would hear the warning in it. In a way, Hermione mused, like Professor Snape…

No, no! Don't think about Snape; don't think about–

_That blasted traitor! How could he? And here I thought I could trust him! _The angry thoughts pummeled down her carefully built mind-barriers. Hermione had seen Snape stalk down the dimly lit hallways, cloak billowing dramatically behind him like some dark, unpleasant cloud. With his pale fingers clutched at Malfoy's wrist, she could see Malfoy trembling and shaking as he was ushered towards the Great Entrance. She had not understood then. If she had known that they were these _traitors, _she would've _Avada'd _them both the moment they dared step into the hall…

Hermione's eyes flickered up to a small slit in ceiling. It was barely noticeable, but it was still there, disturbing the absolute perfection that the Malfoys strived for.

_It's a vent, _she realized. Both older Malfoys were upstairs…

"I know that you worry for our son's and… _Granger's… _lives, but I do believe that the Dark Lord has other intentions rather than killing off our heir…" Lucius answered promptly, sounding much too confident and arrogant for Hermione's taste. But despite the disdain she felt for the Malfoy patriarch, she did note that Mr. Malfoy sounded somewhat warmer and caring as he spoke to his wife, filled with… _love? … _Or whatever could be called similar in the Malfoys' cases.

There was a dainty huff, and the wife answered primly, "Like what, pray tell? Initiate Miss Granger into a Death Eater? Send them off after Potter? Torture them under _Crucio _for hours?"

Hermione could easily imagine Mr. Malfoy curl his lip slightly while a flash of irritation flashed within the depths of his grey eyes. Biting her lip slightly, she slipped away up the same spiral staircase as before, moving like a shadow in the night. Without warning, strong muscular arms wrapped around her petite waist and lifted her easily into a room.

For the briefest moment, she felt a sudden feeling of safe protection. Hermione immediately scolded herself, wondering if it was the too-immaculate manor that was getting to her head. Safe? She gave an unladylike snort in her mind. Fear seemed to only replace the safety, however, and she found herself struggling against the strong and unwavering arms of her capturer.

They took a left, and then the person kicked the door open to reveal a rather modern room (for a mansion as ancient as the Malfoy Manor, that is).

Hollering hoarsely, Hermione felt herself lowered onto what seemed to be a couch, white genuine leather, she noted. She looked up and saw Malfoy standing over her, and then felt the couch shift as he sat down.

"You can't escape," he said indifferently, raising a blonde eyebrow. "You won't be able to. It'd only waste time for me and you… you, planning to escape, and me, chasing after you as if this was some shitty game of cat and mouse."

Hermione glared at him silently, daggers protruding from his head in her inner mind. If looks could kill, he would be bleeding to death right below her feet right now.

Malfoy stared at her for a moment, his lip seemingly curling into a sneer. "This is the fucking _war, _Granger. Not some evening pastime. Run and you may get struck with the Cruciatus Curse within a second. Contact your little Gryffindorks and you'll be thrown into some barred-up room for isolation. The Dark Lord is not known for mercy, not known for moral."

Hermione gnawed at her lip, a habit developed over the course of the last few weeks of shivering in the cold while she thought. Plan after plan had unfolded itself then, but now, there was only one response that she could muster. It was as if he had cast some spell on her to cause a trance, mind you, she was quite disgusted, but it was not to be ignored.

"Are you warning me?"

Malfoy smirked slightly at that, a quirk visible on his lips. "Depends on what you think, love. Your words, not mine."

Hermione stiffened at the word 'love', tightening her hands into fists with her face twisted into a recalcitrant-marked expression. "Why don't you just let me die off? Let them torture me, and let them bloody beat me into pulp!"

She watched as his silver eyes suddenly flicker to life, flashing as the image of Hermione, bloody and bruised, convulsing with pain, on the cold dungeon floor. His knuckles were suddenly completely white, eyes darkening and blazing with anger at the thought of it.

To his credit, he remained silent.

Hermione went on, leering slightly as she did. "It's because you'd _die _if you did!" she said gleefully, her inner demon cackling. "It's because if _I _die, you'll die of heartbreak!"

"Is that so?"

Hermione immediately pushed herself as far away from him as possible once she heard this calm and collected tone. She was used to a naïve, volatile, good-for-nothing child, not a war-ready, dark-engrossed, cool, calm, and collected… man? Boy? Person? _Death Eater? _

Malfoy looked immensely at ease, taking into note that he had just heard what could be insinuated as his death sentence. His grey eyes had lost it's smoldering anger, now only a slate-colored stone. "I beg to differ. I have not bonded with you, Granger. In that case, I have possibility to simply live on and find another girl to love."

The Gryffindor studied him silently, trying to decipher the smirking mask set on Malfoy's face. Was he lying? Was he actually torn up inside?

She could not tell.

Did she really have such a loose hold on him?

Hermione had counted on Malfoy protecting her from the Dark Forces for now… Truthfully, she hadn't really thought of otherwise. Veela had the most dominant trait of possessiveness… what if this didn't work? What if she was going to be tortured for information on the Order and Harry and Ron and–

Draco suddenly stood up, face slightly distorted as he held his forearm as if in pain. Hermione's eyes travelled to where he was clutching, and then comprehension dawned on her face.

_The Dark Mark. _

Bile welled up her throat and she wanted nothing more than to bloody pound him for being such a coward.

"We are going right now," Malfoy hissed out of clenched teeth, hands on her arm and yanking her up none-too-gently. When Hermione resisted, he harshly demanded: "_Now!" _

Feeling more fear this time as he nearly pulled her arm out of its socket, Hermione felt a slight pull in her stomach as they Apparated with a _snap. _

O

Hermione hadn't even collected her surroundings yet. She didn't have the time to switch around her expression or do _anything… _Yet she already knew. She somehow already knew…

It was _His _presence.

Lord Voldemort.

Just simply knowing it made it worse than a shock. His cold presence graced every inch of the room, shoveling out hearts and making you only wallow in fear. She could feel his cold red eyes on her the moment she took one step.

Why had Malfoy endangered her like this? Was this all some kind of... sick prank?

"Well, well, look what we've dragged in. Instead of killing two birds with one stone, perhaps it's two birds and one weasel." The Dark Lord chuckled, and the five Death Eaters surrounding him immediately did as well.

"I don't understand," Hermione said boldly.

Voldemort fixed her with a strange look, half-filled with loathing and another of amusement. "I've been warned that you were intelligent," he hissed, a dangerous smile curving upwards on his thin lips. "Perhaps that was too… unjustified. You see now how even the most 'intelligent' of the mudbloods cannot match the most lowly of purebloods."

"And what may you be, pray tell?" Hermione hissed mockingly, summoning all of her Gryffindor courage to spit this words in his snake-face. It was as good as taunting him because he was half-blood. She could see Harry's face, proud and worried for her, right in front of her, as if he were really there. She could see every little detail: his worried emerald green eyes, glasses reflecting the colors of the lights, and his skin, pale yet not ailing.

Ron: flaming hair flying in the wind, blue eyes shining with mischief, and freckles lightly dotting the bridge of his nose to his cheeks.

Hermione watched as Voldemort's face contorted into anger, eyes flashing crimson with his fury.

"_Crucio!" _

Within a millisecond, Hermione was on the ground, writhing in pain.

O _Hermione's POV _O

I almost screamed.

Almost.

It hurt so much…

It was as if my veins were on fire. Hot, blazing heat that mimicked his fury blasted through my bloodstreams, lacing it within burning pain. Fire was replaced with ice, slithering through my body and freezing my hands, cutting off my blood circulation. I tasted a metallic pang in my mouth, and barely felt the blood dribbling down my chin.

I curled my hands into fists, arching my back and then folding myself inwards, forming a ball as I rocked back and forth… back and forth…

My fists covered my ears. Only one word echoed over and over again, like a non-ending song…

_Crucio._

_Crucio._

_Crucio._

_Crucio. _

I felt my nails digging in sharply in the area right where my jaw started. I couldn't tell if it was bleeding… it didn't matter…

My vision was disappearing. Black dots swam in front of my eyes, and I could only barely see Voldemort's sadistic face sneering and smirking at my vulnerable form.

Please make it stop.

Please, _please _make it stop.

Fresh tears leaked out of my eyes, rolling down my cheek and coating it in a wet plaster. I put all of my measly control into not screaming… no, I would never scream… I could not be so weak…

O _Draco's POV _O

My heart pounded in my throat. I could not bare it… could not…

I felt my humanity slowly slipping away from me. Her internal shrieks of pain vibrated in my mind… each sign of pain leaving a glowing burn mark and imprint in my brain…

I felt my thoughts drain. I was losing control…

Her pain was my pain…

It burned; it felt so cold…

_Hermione. _

Her voice resonated in my head, and the moment it did, my Veela side took over. I was no longer Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater: follower of the Dark Lord. I was no longer simply a Hogwarts student, Slytherin, and the sole and single heir of the Malfoy fortune.

I was Draco Malfoy, the Veela, a _very angry _Veela, in fact. I was now a Veela who was powerful and worked independent, save for my mate. I was now a Veela who was wild and free. I was now a Veela who would fight every living morsel for his mate.

_My _mate.

I sprung forward, my body instinctively curling around Hermione's protectively. I was barely conscious of what I was doing…

Only that it was right…

At the moment.

My magic exploded with my anger, rippling outwards and creating a protective shield around our two bodies. It shimmered with raw power, glimmering with gold and silver as it reflected all over the room and soon reflected all colors of the rainbow around as if glass shards. I noticed Hermione stop muffling her shrieks of pain and lightly brushed away her tears, only to be replaced with another round of salty warm water.

Her body was shaking from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse, eyes wide with fright and bewilderment. My heart clenched and ached when I saw those empty, hollow brown eyes that used to be filled with defiance and Gryffindor cheer.

She was safe in my arms.

It felt so… right. Her body fit perfectly in my arms, and holy Merlin, she was absolutely petite in comparison. So fragile.

O _Hermione's POV _O

The pain was suddenly gone, though my ears still rung and my limbs ached and throbbed. I couldn't stop trembling, and I couldn't bring myself to feel. The only things I could think about were my loved ones.

Harry. Ron. Ginny. Mum. Dad. Fred. George. Molly. Arthur. Dumbledore. Even Charlie and Bill, with perhaps an extension of Fleur.

I felt familiar arms wrap around me protectively, as if shielding me from more pain. A warm glow radiated off of him.

Draco Malfoy.

He was staring me with an expression that I don't think I have ever seen. In the dark times, it could be seen as light. In the lightest times, it could be seen as dark. No matter which way you see it, you wouldn't understand.

I didn't understand.

It was care, but it was not. It was anger, but it was not. It was worry, but it was not. It was euphoria, but it was not.

It was d) none of the above.

His intense silver eyes were staring at me as if staring into my soul. I was utterly mesmerized by them: all delicate shades of grey, some silver, some a darker slate. They were beautiful and deep, and in another way, they were dark and haunting.

Yet I still swore that I did not, and would not ever, like him…

Or love him.

**Author's Notes: **Yes! I actually finished this chapter… took a week or so… incredibly hard to write (in my opinion… which really isn't saying much). I fervently hope that you all liked it… and if you have any ideas for any further chapters, feel free to give me some advice, even though I won't guarantee that I will use it, it would be quite helpful! I also swear that Hermione and Draco won't immediately fall in love with each other next chapter or something rather… stupid?... like that. Happy early Halloween! _Please review! _


	4. Saying Sorry Isn't Easy

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Author's Notes: **Here is chapter four! I hope you all like it… I'm still trying to hunt out the details (don't worry, I definitely have a plot-line). I know that some of you think that Hermione is being a tad too stubborn. I think that it is in Hermione's character to be loyal to the Light and not give in to Draco, and that if she immediately fell for him, there would be no drama, and it would be highly unrealistic. I hope you bare with me here! Thank you all for your lovely feedback, and **please review! **

_Reviewers: seddielover12, Chellesmere, readme2023, D.M. Lover 21, Loslote, Panther Eyes, Preetoaka Raven Potter Weasley, KittyFox1, xxfreexx, SaaamForLife, Shadow-The Black Queen, Kateri, strivengoddess, vswimming12, xXxtellmewhyxXx, Abbypotter61234, oneandonlyvampirefairy, alwaysthere2, lacking a better name, kh2020, martshi3, miss quirky bookworm, Lansara _

Voldemort's eyes were narrowed into ominous ruby slits, radiating a certain fury that cast off a fiery light of anger. His eyes watched the golden glow around the couple slowly fade, as if only reluctantly trying to peel away from its masters.

This was not right.

_He _was master.

The young Malfoy heir and the mudblood were both staring at each other with the strangest expressions upon their faces: confusion, pain, distrust, hope, and something that he could not decipher.

"You dare to intercede?"

Voldemort's cold, taunting voice resonated through the chambers eerily. Nagini, basking on the throne's back, slithered to the silvery arms of the chair, hissing slightly as she raised her head. Her scales glittered with magic and hues of any color from emerald to rosy pink.

The situation seemed to dawn on Draco, as if realizing something that he hadn't meant to do and now regretted it. His silver eyes flashed with fear for only a sliver of a second before being smothered by indifference. However, his irritation was the hardest emotion to cloak, powered by his anger at the Dark Lord for harming his mate.

"My Lord," he forced these words out of his mouth. "I apologize for my behavior and lack of respect to you. I plead you to forgive me."

An icy, amused laugh. "Forgive you?" You-Know-Who hissed. "I think not, little Malfoy. Tell me: how will you restrain yourself next time and the next? Will you guard your pitiful mudblood once again?"

Draco instinctively growled at the profanity, tightening his grip so that Hermione remained firmly in his arms but not so that her blood circulation would cut off.

"My Lord," he hissed through clenched teeth. "I would be of more use to you if you did not harm my mate." The Veela knew that these words were bordering on resentment and disrespect, and that his very being was threatened by whatever the Dark Lord decided on.

Lord Voldemort fixed his penetrating glower on him, as if scanning the youngest Malfoy. "Do you know why I caused your little mate pain?"

"No, My Lord."

He grinned sadistically, looking horrifying as a scary glint appeared in his eyes. "She defied our ways. This little Gryffindor _muggle-born _(he said this mockingly) does not fight for what we believe, and has soiled the floors with her presence. As a Malfoy, you should believe in putting certain people in their place, isn't that so?"

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, and you could actually see the way his humanity slipped out of his grip for a moment before he gained back control and reigned in his temper.

"My Lord." A new voice joined their conversation, and all of the heads turned like clockwork: simultaneously swiveling around to see Lucius Malfoy stroll into the room with an air of arrogance towards those below him and veneration towards his master.

"Lucius," Voldemort arched a non-existent eyebrow, lips twitching. His unnaturally long and pale spidery white fingers tapped impatiently on the armchair.

Lucius bowed modestly. "My Lord… my son remains with all of his loyalty to you while his Veela side protects his mate. I plead you to give them a chance… and to give Miss Granger a chance to… _change." _

Hermione, who was shivering uncontrollably, had no reaction to this statement. Under normal circumstances, she would have spat in his face for making such a preposterous claim. Now was an exception: completely wandless and defenseless with only Draco Malfoy there to protect her, her Gryffindor bravery was lost.

The Dark Lord wasn't stupid. He knew that Hermione Granger was Harry Potter's best friend and the brains of the Trio. He knew that she was strictly 'good' and a Gryffindor.

However:

What would hurt the Light more than to see their own precious little mudblood on the Dark side? What would be more of a blow to his enemies if they found her completely unscathed and choosing _his _side over theirs? What would be more amusing than to watch the prestigious Malfoy wracking their heads to find more ways to please him? What would be more beneficial than digging out a Slytherin from a Gryffindor?

"I grant you one chance. Beware, Malfoy… _Granger_."

O

Hermione was barely aware of being pulled out of the room and then brought straight to the Malfoy Manor's living room. She walked around in a daze: astonished that she had met Voldemort himself and having an out-of-body-experience as she floated around the corridors. Hermione vaguely recalled Draco's hand tugging on hers harshly.

The doors slammed open with a _'bang', _and they entered a surprisingly cold room. A fire was lit in the fireplace, casting a pearly orange glow over the spacious, carpeted room.

"Draco!" a slender girl leapt up immediately.

Hermione stared at the girl. She looked vaguely familiar: with dark, short and strictly straight hair and brown eyes, she was quite a beauty… undoubtedly Slytherin…

Of course! Pansy Parkinson!

"Pansy," Draco's bass voice greeted the girl, nodding at the two male companions by her side. "Theo. Blaise." His voice was curt and controlled as his grey eyes assessed the situation.

"Relax, Draco," a dark-skinned boy spoke up, smirking slightly. "We aren't going to try to claim that little lady of yours. Now sit down and explain."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Always the one for lightening the atmosphere, Blaise?"

"Gladly. Thank you for finally recognizing my natural Italian charm," Zabini sat back, kicking up his feet comfortably. He seemed used to the Malfoy Manor, and it was quite palpable that he was here often.

The tension that had sudden sprouted up in the room had sizzled down as the four friends exchanged greetings and news. Hermione, feeling out of place, had tried to sneak away stealthily, only to find Malfoy's hands firmly clutching her thin wrist.

"Whoa… so he set the Cruciatus Curse on her?" Nott angled his head towards Hermione.

Malfoy tensed even though it was only words that could do no harm. Hermione tried, once again, to tug herself away from him but he wouldn't let her leave his side.

A moment of awkward silence passed in the group. The grandfather clock in the corner suddenly was much more noticeable as it ticked away the moments of absolute quiet.

Pansy cleared her throat, hand primly set on her throat. "I've got to go. Mother said to leave twenty minutes after the meeting," her eyes flickered towards the clock, "which would be now. Blaise? Nott?"

They both got up, eyes flickering over to Draco and Hermione. "You two will be all right?" Nott asked.

Draco snorted. "I'm a Slytherin, Nott."

Theo just smirked and nodded, grabbing some Floo powder and throwing it down, muttering something that sounded like "Nott Residence" and disappearing in the tendrils of flame and smoke. Pansy and Blaise followed.

Hermione could feel electricity crack in the air in between her and Malfoy as they sat in silence, Malfoy staring at the place where his three friends disappeared and Hermione glaring sullenly at the ground.

"Granger," Malfoy said quietly, his voice strange and out of character.

Hermione turned to look at him with reluctance. "I want to go home."

"You know that that won't happen."

"Hope and defiance is all I have left, Malfoy," Hermione whispered. "I'm never going to bow down to you. I am never going to like you."

"You will."

Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously as she stared at him. "How? Will you Imperio me into that? Will you threaten my family and friends? Will you use your Veela powers to create fake affection?"

Malfoy's grey eyes darkened as he sat up, releasing her wrist in the process. "Do you _want _me to?"

Silence met his words.

"Oh, how _saintly _you are, Granger. How 'perfect'. There's a little flaw in your plan, Granger, which happens to be pushing me away. You know what that flaw is? The farther you try to push _me _away, the less chance of survival _you _have. Do you think that the Dark Lord will go around and about to let you go?"

"You only help me for _yourself!" _

"I'm aware, Granger," he answered coldly. "Did you really think that I would lower myself to your level? Did you really think that I could ever _care _for a filthy being like you?"

Hermione suddenly froze, the blood draining from her face. She didn't know why it hurt to hear him say that. After all, Malfoy had spent six years tormenting her…

So why did it hurt now?

Had she truly believed that he had changed? She cursed herself for lowering her defenses. The moment her shields were lowered was the moment that her enemies would attack.

Hermione bolted straight up and ran. It shouldn't hurt anymore, she told herself. I shouldn't.

Why?

She was aware that no voice was calling her back. He meant every word of it: she knew he did. Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat, refusing to shed tears over a cruel bastard like Malfoy.

It had all been a ruse. He had saved her from the Dark Lord, true, but perhaps Voldemort was in on it as well. They just wanted her to break, to shatter, to fall down to her knees crying…

Hermione wasn't sure where her legs were carrying her. All she knew was that she wanted to be far away… far, far away from the person who had hurt her most.

She didn't even like him.

She _hated _him. She _fucking loathed _him. She wished Death's entire wrath on that stupid little _Death Eater. _

O

What the hell did he just do?

Draco groaned and buried his head in his hands, not caring if it messed up his hair. It didn't matter. Hermione mattered, and he _knew _it.

What had he expected? Did he truly believe that she would simply fall in love with him and they could go galloping off into the sunset? No, of course not.

Hermione Granger was the same defiant, witty, and proud Gryffindor that he had known since first year. He knew that she had compassion and care, but it wasn't enough for her to simply throw away her life for him.

She had hurt him.

The moment Granger started ranting about _forcing _her to subdue to him was the moment that he felt anger well up inside of him. It _hurt _to think of how cruelly she thought of him. He had acted on defense and instinctively hurt her back.

A Veela would never intentionally hurt his mate, emotionally or physically. However, the power of a human heart can sometimes overpower those of a Veela and completely dominate. In that moment, his human side had taken over and let him shout words at her like knives.

She must hate him now.

What to do?

_Apologize, Draco. Get the guts and courage and be a bloody Gryffindor and find her. Apologize. _

Dammit.

Stupid conscience.

They said that Slytherins were heartless gits that did not feel a thing. They felt no guilt and no emotion other than being on top of everything.

This was partly true.

Not now.

By now, the Veela side of him had grabbed the reigns of control. His heart, now dominated by Veela blood, ached with the pain that Hermione must be feeling. It was his every instinct to run up to her and kiss the pain away, to repeat that he was sorry.

Too bad that Malfoys don't say sorry.

Ever since he was little, his father had said: _"Malfoys don't apologize unless speaking to those above them. Malfoys don't bow down to others and give them control. Malfoys don't mingle with dirty bloods. Malfoys don't converse with Gryffindors…"_

And so the list went on.

Draco could still smell her scent in the air, lifting his nose as if a dog testing the air. It had lingered behind: such a pure smell, filled with a natural forest-scent and trickling water. Her emotions were tied loosely to it: some pain and some anger.

Her scent was driving him crazy.

Groaning, he dragged himself up from the couch, following her trail towards the balcony. Every so often, he would stop and take one step back, only to look around and sigh before forcing himself to follow again.

_Coward, _he thought.

Draco looked around, seeing how the sunlight poured through the windows and bathed the room with natural light. In the corner, just before the doors to the balcony, was Hermione, curled up with her head buried in her knees. She was trembling slightly, and Draco felt a pang of guilt strike through his heart.

He crossed the room silently before wrapping his arms around her softly. She flinched and pushed him away harshly, teeth bared with a wild look in her eyes.

"_Get. Away. From. Me." _

"Hermione––"

"Don't 'Hermione' me!" she hissed, pushing her even further into the corner if possible. "Get away from me, you deceiver!"

"Please listen to me––"

"Shut up, shut up… shut up!"

"Hermione, I'm––"

Hermione blocked her ears furiously.

"I'm really sorry," Draco whispered, lowering him to stare at her in the eyes. "I'm really sorry." He said this with every bit of sincerity, watching her carefully.

Hermione began trembling. How could he do this to her? How could he control her every emotion with every word?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, as if chanting an incantation. "I'm sorry."

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "I won't ever trust you again," she rasped.

Draco closed his eyes, hiding the raw emotion in those silver orbs from her. He may have just opened himself up to her, but he was a Slytherin, and the thing that he was probably most afraid of was breaking.

"I hope you know that I mean it."

The Gryffindor looked away, staring through the glass at the beautiful scenery. It was silent for a moment before she whispered:

"I'll see."

**Author's Notes: **I know that this is a ridiculously short chapter, but I really couldn't find it in myself to write this story! It is increasingly hard to write without the details sorted out and making it up on the whim! Tell me what you think about it… I really don't like the beginning of this chapter… and **please review! **


	5. The Tables Turn

**Disclaimer: **I do not own J.K. Rowling's spectacular world of 'Harry Potter'.

**Author's Notes: **Here is chapter five! I've been working out some of the finer details of this story, though I'm not completely done with the planning yet. I hope this will suffice… On another note, _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is out! _It was an absolutely _great _movie, and will probably help with my perspective on this story!

I've begun another Dramione fanfiction called **'Warrior of My Heart'. **I hope you check it out! **Please review! **

_Reviewers: cullen's pet, readme2023, Loslote. miss quirky bookworm, Panther Eyes, lacking a better name, Shadow-The Black Queen, Kat Eyes 17, OBLuvr13, mixedfic, strivengoddess, TwinsConspiracy, gbflautist09, vswimming12, Chellesmere, fjgjfhfjfnfbxnn, mydirt09, creative-kiwi, Rhalia, DevilishBea-Anime-Couple-Lover, D.M. Lover 21, SaaamForLife _

Shout-out to _strivengoddess: _Thank you so much for your review(s)! Last chapter, I was seriously lacking inspiration to write and simply had no idea what to do. It wasn't until the end did I actually type up a page without stopping! I'm glad you liked the fight and drama, and I love your long and helpful reviews! I hope you like this chapter!

O

The silence in the air was deafening, filled with tension and sizzling emotions. In Draco's silver eyes was raw emotion, something that Hermione had never seen before.

Draco held his breath. Never before had he been so vulnerable… honestly, how did the Hufflepuffs do it? How could they cry when they felt like crying and smile all day if they felt happy?

Hermione's expression shifted into a blank stare, and immediately, there was a change in the atmosphere. It turned brisk and cold, and the electricity suddenly disappeared. A bystander would've cringed at the sudden bitterness that prevailed.

She stood up and brushed her cloak in the fashion that purebloods usually would use to show how unworthy muggleborns were. "I owe you no trust, and you deserve none. You've tortured me for all of my life: either with words or with hexes. You've harmed my friends, and you've done everything to hurt _me. _I don't owe you anything, thank you very much, and least of all, I don't owe you any second chances." Hermione lifted her chin in the most prideful and holier-than-thou manner that put Narcissa Malfoy to shame and turned away, slamming the door behind her.

Draco collapsed against the cold marble wall, flinching as the ice-cold stone came in contact with his pale skin. It sent shivers all down his spine.

He had hoped for her to forgive him, he admitted, when it simply was not expectable. But he had hoped, and that hurt the most. He _wanted _her to understand and forgive him.

But she wouldn't.

Nothing that he said would undo five years of taunting and mocking.

Yet he wouldn't give up. He _couldn't _give up. His goddamned life was on the line!

What was he to do?

Draco knew that no pleading would work with the stubborn Gryffindor. No, she counted actions. What could he do? Did she expect for him to suddenly turn to the Light and leave his mother to suffer the consequences of his treachery?

So _that _was his real obstacle.

The Dark Lord.

The darkest wizard of all time wouldn't hesitate to harm his friends and family if Draco left with his mate. If it all came down to this, however, Draco _would _take Hermione and run if it could keep her safe.

But he'd truly rather another option.

He couldn't simply strike the Dark Lord dead, no, that would've been done years ago if possible. But he knew that his new Veela powers would grant him stronger reflexes and powers beyond a human being's.

The Dark Lord wasn't exactly a human being, was he?

Draco could take his mother along as well… but no, Narcissa would never leave with her mate, and Lucius…

Well, he didn't quite know his father that well at all. Sometimes, he swore that Lucius would like to get out of the fear and anxiety of being a Death Eater of the Inner Circle. Yet at other times, he could see the bloodlust and ambition in his father's eyes and knew that there was no changing him.

Draco closed his eyes and sat there on the cold floor, sighing as he also imagined dragging his friends along. That would not end well.

His father would protect his mother if he left, and his friends would have their families for comfort. Hermione _needed _his protection. Hermione was the one who was vulnerable.

_Hermione _believed that he was a violent Death Eater who wanted every muggle dead at his feet or screaming in pain.

He never was such a person. Nearly none of his friends were. They were all forced to become Death Eaters, lest they wanted their families and themselves all dead. No one could intentionally avoid giving something that the Dark Lord wanted without ending up dead.

Not many Death Eaters could understand their master, and Draco didn't include himself as one of them. However, he _did _see the greedy look on the Dark Lord's face that showed how he wanted Hermione to become one of his.

Draco couldn't see Hermione obliging. He couldn't see her in a black hooded cloak with blood-red eyes. She would at least put up a fight... a fight that might cost her a life.

_Her _life.

Was there no other option?

O

Hermione truly didn't know where to go. She only let her feet take her wherever they felt like. Said navigational instruments led her to her 'room'.

It was still the in the same disorganized look as it was before. With glass shards poking up dangerously from the ground and the bed nearly flipped over, it was rather horrifying and impressing at the same time.

She stepped daintily over sharp ends and such, trying to distract herself, but only to find that she was thinking about how Malfoy would immediately heal her if he saw any little drop of her blood.

She sighed.

_Malfoy. _

One would think that her biggest confusion in the Dark side's… lair… would be the Dark Lord himself, who would be looking for her blood. Instead, it was _Draco Malfoy. _Didn't he cry after she punched him in third year?

Hermione couldn't understand why Voldemort wanted to 'give her a chance'. Honestly, even person with three eyes and half a brain would know that she would _never _side with the people who murdered the weak!

Hermione took a deep breath, drawing the heavy velvet curtains to stare outside at the dark that lay heavily over the world, like a blanket that would never be lifted.

"Harry, Ron," she whispered softly, "where are you?" She trailed her slender fingers down the frosted windowpane, closing her eyes as she sighed wistfully. If Ron hadn't gotten mad at Harry and her, they would still be searching for Horcruxes together. If she hadn't lay her head on Harry's shoulder…

No, it wasn't her fault! It was Ron's, for being a jealous, over-protective git!

Hermione shook her head slowly, opening her brown eyes hopefully, wishing to see green grass and blue skies again, but only to be greeted with the same smoky grey. Now was not the time to be pointing fingers like little children.

There was a soft knock on the wooden door, and she turned around slowly, as if dreading the moment, to see Malfoy leaning against the door, his eyes appraising the mess that had been made just a while ago.

"Granger, I want to talk to you."

"You've done plenty of talking, _Malfoy," _Hermione snorted, turning away from him. "I've made my opinion clear: I want you to _stay away from me _and just _leave." _

Malfoy shook his head, tsking at her. "Gryffindors… can't drop their pride for their own lives. You know that your life lies in my arms."

She turned around, challenge flashing in her eyes. "And _you _know that your heart lies in my hands."

"Touché," Malfoy shrugged, as if his heart was no big deal. "But I'm not here to talk about that." He stepped inside, watching the broken glass on the ground, and waved his wand, the door locking and a bright blue light circling their two figures.

Hermione began to back away, taking a deep breath for courage. "What are you doing?" she hissed, for fear that her voice would break if she spoke any louder.

"Just silencing the room so no one overhears this."

Her eyes widened in panic for a split second.

Malfoy immediately drew back, lips twisted in disgust. "Not for _that _cause," he snapped, irritated, once again, at how she thought of him. "I'm here to simply talk."

There was silence, and Hermione focused her attention on the glass, willing it to sink into his feet. After another beat of no noise at all, she sneered: "Well get yipping, _ferret." _

He rolled his eyes at her immaturity and stepped forward. Draco's face had taken a new expression: full of seriousness and no-nonsense strictness. "Hermione… I want you to understand that I don't _want _to be a Death Eater."

She snorted and looked away.

"Listen to me," he said forcefully. It was said not with threat, but with a type of leadership that had 'this is for your own good' written all over it.

Hermione turned her face slightly towards him to show that she was.

Malfoy nodded once in satisfaction before continuing. "Many of our generation of purebloods are being forced into the Dark Lord's reign out of fear. Some fear for the lives of their family, and others for themselves. For some people, the immediate threat is the Dark Lord himself, and for others, it _is _their family."

"Don't you see? People who serve the Dark Lord serve out of fear, and while fear can do certain things to a human, the ties of loyalty are not nearly strong enough to withhold."

Hermione had bitten her lip to try to not interrupt him or seem too interested while he had said this, and now, she couldn't help but to speak.

"Why didn't you go to Professor Dumbledore? He would've helped you… all of you."

Draco laughed harshly, his grey eyes stormy and filled with memories. "Dumbledore isn't a saint… he isn't the answer to everything, and cannot solve every problem we have."

She fell silent.

"Purebloods follow tradition, ancient traditions that are strict and unnecessary all alike…

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione cut in, eyebrows knit together. "What do you want out of this? Pity? Sympathy? Understanding?"

Draco nearly blanched. The last thing he needed was some fluffy pity from a Gryffindor. "Granger, I want out."

A blank look. "What?"

"You heard me, I want out."

Hermione blinked once. Twice. Three times. She could not believe that she was hearing this. "You want… out?"

Draco sighed impatiently, as if talking to a three-year-old toddler. "Yes, Granger. I want to leave the Death Eaters. I want to help you, and, as much as I hate to say it, I'll side with Pothead."

"What do you get out of this ordeal? What do you _want? _Do you expect me to forgive you and run into your arms if I agree?"

He brushed his fingers through his white-blonde hair. "I want to do something right for a change. I don't want to blindly serve the Dark Lord out of fear anymore."

"Once again, I ask: what do you get out of this?"

Draco paused, turning to stare at her with impenetrable silver eyes. "A simple life," he finally answered after beats of silence. "Just a simple life. Free of Azkaban. Free of Death Eaters. Free of blood purity."

"So you want complete forgiveness."

He gave her a sharp nod.

Hermione crossed her arms, biting the insides of her cheek as she gnawed over this situation. "How about me? Do you expect me to be with you?"

Draco didn't answer as he stared at the austere wall that was facing him. "I'd hope. But I won't force you."

"And if you die?"

To her surprise, he merely shrugged his shoulders. Hermione peered at him curiously, trying to see turmoil and emotion behind those deadening eyes, but found none that were available to her.

"What if the Dark wins?"

Draco turned to stare at her robotically and gave her a wry smile. "Well, damn my luck. At least I die for what I believe."

She blinked at him, thinking over his last two sentences. How accurate, she supposed. This war _was _a matter of luck, and this fight _was _about what you believed.

"Why should I trust you? As stated before: _I don't owe you anything." _

"Don't you want to run?" Draco asked, incredulous. "Don't you want to get out of this Manor and get back to those pathetic friends of yours?"

There was a flash of emotion across those amber eyes, and Draco spotted it immediately. It was hope.

He could see how she wanted to meet her friends and help them, and he could see how her want to help everyone made her strong and weak. He could see her sadness and regret, as well as defeat and hope, all at the same time. He could see her love.

Why couldn't it be directed at him?

Draco drummed his fingers. Of course it wasn't directed at him…

At least not yet.

Just the simple thought of Hermione getting cozy with the Weasel made him tense in jealousy and possessiveness. No Weasel.

"I do want to get out," Hermione said slowly. "But how do I know that you're not simply leading the Death Eaters towards Harry and Ron? How do we find the Order if the Death Eaters couldn't find a trace of them anywhere?"

Draco raised a blonde eyebrow, recognizing how far she looked ahead and planned. How admirable. "We don't know until we try, Granger. As for your trust… It's all your choice, not mine. That's the beauty of a dilemma."

"You do realize," Hermione whispered, "that… You-Know-Who would be after your blood… right? Your family…"

"I know," he cut in harshly. Even though he had gone over this idea so many times in his head, he still flinched when she said it out loud. It seemed to make it more real… more _feared. _

Hermione's brown eyes widened. "Are you doing this… for me?"

He stared at her blankly, trying to decide what he was going to say. He had opened up before, and all she did as stab him in return. Was she going to sprinkle salt over his wounds now?

"I don't know," he said cryptically. "Now think about my offer carefully, because I'm not going to propose it again." And with that, he turned around and backed away, closing the door softly behind him, leaving an indecisive Hermione behind.

How the tables have turned.

O _Harry and Ron _O

Harry stared blankly at the space that they had disappeared. There was not a wisp of life out there: only grey, white, and black.

Out of his peripherals, he saw Ron, gaping like a fish, at the same place.

At that place, Hermione had once stood. Her wild hair framing her face, and her Gryffindor pride sparkling in her eyes.

And now she wasn't.

She had been captured.

Snapping out of his daze, Harry lunged at Ron, knocking him onto the ground and hitting him with his fists. Ron yelled back, taking a couple of bruises before he flipped Harry over, blocking some and trying to hold his friend down.

Ron grabbed blindly for his wand in the snow, coming up with handfuls of fluffy whiteness before finally grabbing the wooden stick and aiming it at his best friend.

"_Pe-Petrificus Totalus!" _Ron shouted, and Harry found him body-bound, frozen like a piece of cardboard or ice.

Still panting, Ron collapsed onto his knees, waving his wand to clear the snow that had slithered down his back and was giving him the chills. He waved his wand at his best mate as well, and tried his best to avoid the glaring emerald eyes.

"If I let you go," Ron panted, "don't try to fight me."

Harry's eyes stared threateningly back at him.

"_Finite Incantatem." _

Harry flexed his muscles, sitting up and repairing his glasses and quickly slipping it on. "You deserved that punch, Ron."

Ron was silent and unresponsive for a moment until he finally sighed and nodded slowly. "I know," he whispered brokenly. "It was my fault, I ––"

"What are we going to do without Hermione?" Harry cut in sharply, his eyes accusing. "What are we going to do? We _have _to save her… we can't let her rot in the midst of Death Eaters! So tell me, mate. _How _are we going to go about doing that?"

"I––"

Harry squeezed his eyes close, as if trying to slip away from this moment or trying to wake up from a nightmare. "I'm guessing that they're going to bring her straight to _Him." _

Ron suddenly seized up in horror, his eyes widening in terror and realization. "Hermione… she…"

"She can't die," Harry hissed, catching the drift of his friend's sentence.

"I… we'll save her," Ron said. "We… we will…"

"Yeah, Ron. We'll save her."

O

Hermione stared out of the window. Behind her, the bedroom was tidied up, the glass shards put together to form vases and decorative bowls and the bed smoothed out to perfection.

She closed her eyes. She had made her decision.

She hoped that she wouldn't come to regret it.

**Author's Notes: **Yes, the one and only… chapter five! I hope you liked this chapter… as you can probably tell, I'm actually getting around to a plot! Yay! Cheers for chrissytingting! Anyhow, please tell me your thoughts! **Please review! **


	6. Run While You Can

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own 'Harry Potter'.

**Author's Notes: **Happy Holidays everyone! Yes, I'm actually updating this story, for once. I hope you like it… Thank you for your lovely reviews. Be sure to wish your dear author happy birthday as well (: And remember, **PLEASE REVIEW! **

_Reviewers: Loslote, Slytherin Princess 1313, cullen's pet, Panther Eyes, BigTuna8, readme2023, SaaamForLife, iamagemm, miss quirky bookworm, Shadow-The Black Queen, vswimming12, MidnightThief15, sNAPpyDraGon, D.M. Lover 21, ShellBeeee, ireallyaminnocent, Dawn Mason-Cullen, LarkasBlessing122291, mekom, LittleMissSmile_

O

Morning brought the usual grey skies and empty days. However, a feeling of intense anticipation was sizzling in the air. Though it was unknown to everyone else who lived in the Malfoy Manor, both Hermione and Draco were pacing around in their own respective rooms. Hermione, for she was still going over the usual process of her logical thinking, and Draco, for he was waiting on a bated breath for what Hermione was going to say. He was sure that she was going to agree: she couldn't pass a chance like this. On the other hand, she never did as he predicted, and that worried him.

After having his breakfast presented to him by a stuttering house-elf, Draco grabbed his cloak and made his way towards Hermione's room. His strut was purposeful and his jaw was set. Every inch of his body screamed confidence. This largely contrasted with what was going on in his head. His brain was going delirious by over-thinking everything, and his heart was in a feverish turmoil of emotions.

It would never deem respectful if a Malfoy were to lose control of his emotions.

Draco knocked on Hermione's door quickly, his eyes flickering around the hall and making sure that no one else would be around to listen in on their conversation. A part of him, the Veela part, hummed with excitement at the thought of being able to see Hermione again. He had not slept soundly because his mate had been the length of a hallway away from him. Under his eyes were dark bags from his restless nights, but last night was the worst of them all.

The door creaked open slightly, making Draco wince and immediately take a mental note to oil the door hinges. However, that thought dissolved when he saw Hermione, her big, cider-brown eyes peeking out from the fraction that she had opened.

He raised his blonde eyebrows challengingly, waiting for her to allow him entrance. He saw her sigh before throwing open the door and walking away from him immediately, crossing her arms and plopping down on the bed.

Draco walked into her room, assessing the state of it with satisfaction (no furniture was ripped up). Finally, he turned his silver gaze at her, resisting the urge to smile and immediately run towards her and bite her neck to mark her as his.

Her wild auburn hair framed her face prettily, and her hair wasn't the same beastly mess as it had been before. The frizz was replaced with delicate curls and waves, sleek and shiny, and it was still the same wild and untamed look that he loved about her.

After casting a _silencio _on the room, Draco spoke. "You've made your decision?" Draco asked nonchalantly, as if it made no difference to him. He wanted to tell himself to stop acting. He wanted to command himself to defy all of the rules that a 'Malfoy' had to follow and just be himself. However, he couldn't find it in himself to look weak in front of anyone, especially his own mate.

Hermione scrutinizing glare rested on him for a few seconds, but he knew that she wouldn't be able to read his underneath emotions. He had been trained from birth to do this, and only the most expert readers could tell what he was thinking.

"I'll do it with some conditions," she finally spoke, her voice not trembling in the least.

Draco's lip quirked. How typical of her, bargaining for more. "Do tell," he smirked, sounding amused as he took a seat and leaned back, relaxing in the loveseat.

She looked slightly annoyed before she listed her conditions. "I want my wand back. I also want you to make an Unbreakable Vow and promise me that you will stay loyal to the Light and me. You cannot associate with the Dark in any way. Furthermore, I want you to drop your holier-than-thou attitude and act like a respectful man."

Silver eyes flashed at her with several emotions at the same time before it settled on amusement. "Granger," Draco said, articulating every word. "Granger. You may have your wand back as long as you don't turn against me once I give it to you. However, I will _not _take the Unbreakable Vow. I can list several reasons as to why," he added on quickly when he saw her mouth open in protest.

"Firstly, we have no bonder," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "We can't ask my mother or father to bond us without them knowing what was going on. You don't want that, now do you?"

She immediately contradicted, grinning gleefully at being able to argue with him. "We could ask an elf to help."

"An elf? Granger, I thought that you were a strong supporter of spew."

"S. P. E. W."

"Yes, whatever. Anyhow, the elves are still under the control of my father, and if my father asked them where we went or what we were up to, they would be forced to listen to him."

Hermione fell into a reluctant silence, folding her arms across her chest.

Draco continued, feeling satisfied that his arguments were strong. "Secondly, I already am loyal to you. In case you haven't noticed yet, I am a Veela and you are my mate. Even though I can break away from you, my Veela side will fight for your affections and do everything for you."

The Gryffindor snorted.

After shooting her a glare, Draco went on. "Thirdly, I am doing this to get _out _of this Death Eater business. So why would I associate with the Dark? I have a mother, father, and several friends here, but I'm already choosing to run with you. Should I keep on listing reasons against your condition?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, irritated, but otherwise did not argue. She gnawed at her lip and glowered at him. "Fine. Swear on your word as a Malfoy."

At this, Draco began to feel panicked. Swearing on his word as a Malfoy was worth a lot. Though he was sure that he wasn't going to go back on his word, there was always that 'what if' in life. Swearing on his word as a Malfoy and then breaking his promise would mean that he would be disinherited and his name would hold no meaning. That, in the pureblood world, meant a lot.

"I swear on my word as a Malfoy to protect Hermione Granger and that I will not associate with the Dark for any dark purposes," Draco hissed, staring at the Gryffindor straight in her eyes. He knew that she would notice his choice of words, but wasn't she as desperate as he was? If she wanted to bargain, then she had to give something up as well.

As predicted, he saw her lip curl in distaste momentarily. "Fine," she snarled.

"Furthermore," Draco added, lightening the mood, "I will attempt not to act like a git."

Hermione snorted. "The key word would be 'attempt'."

"I'm aware."

Hermione sighed, a strange look in her amber eyes. She felt like she was promising her soul to him, as if she was making a deal with the devil. "Fine. Deal. When will I get my wand back, and when will we leave?"

Draco smirked and stood up, sticking a hand into his cloak before pulling out her wand. "Vine, dragon heartstring core, 10 ¾ inches?" he murmured, twirling her wand around in his long, pale fingers.

She glared at him sullenly. "Just give me my wand."

"Yes'm," he answered, taking her hand and placing it in her hand. "I've fulfilled all of your requirements. Now we just need to leave."

"When are we going to leave?" she repeated, staring with a dazed look at her wand. It felt as if a long lost friend had been reunited with her, and the moment her wand touched her hand, she felt warmth spread through her limbs. It was similar to when she first touched her wand at Ollivander's: a feeling of brilliant, magic power with radiating warmth.

Draco leaned forward, nearly as transfixed with her wondrous expression as she was with her wand. "We leave now."

Hermione immediately snapped out of her trance, turning to stare at him with an incredulous look. "Now? With no planning?"

"It's all done," Malfoy answered, a smirk tugging at his lips. He had taken a leaf out of her book and decided to plan for all outcomes. While he was frustrated with the amount of different options he had (he actually had to write a formal outline on parchment, which he promptly burnt after he finished so that no one would ever find it), the surprised look on Hermione's face was priceless and well worth the effort.

"Listen, Malfoy. I'm sure that it's much harder to get out of your Manor than the three minutes you must've put into this 'plan'. Remember? I'm a _captive." _

Malfoy snickered. "My, my. My brilliant plan only took three minutes? You simply adore me, Granger." He took out his wand and waved it lazily, watching as clothes shot out of her closet (Narcissa had bought them all) and then fold neatly in a pile. He then levitated them into a bag with an extension charm on it.

She stared at him. "We're just going to run right now?"

Draco turned around to face her. "Yes, we are. Scared? What a Gryffindor you are," he taunted, knowing that if he hurt her pride, she would stir into action.

Hermione's eyes narrowed before she slid down from the bed, smoothing out her robes and grabbing a cloak. "Let's go, ferret-boy."

Smirking inwardly at his Slytherin cleverness, Draco motioned for her to walk with him as he turned the doorknob and walked towards his room silently. However, to avoid conspicuousness, he ambled towards the room across the hall without a crouching, tiptoe movement, albeit quieter than usual.

He opened his door and slipped in, allowing Hermione a small sliver of a crack to slip in as well. Closing the door softly and locking it with a small _click, _he walked towards the wall built of stone on one end of the magnificent room. He was conscious that Hermione was assessing his room with a critical eye.

The room was spacious and large, and the furniture was polished and perfect. The wood was cherry, the handles were silver, and the bedspread was a silky green. The walls were emerald green and a silver chandelier hung from the high, vaulted ceilings. The ceilings depicted scenes of war and beautiful paintings of dragons and mythology, every carving flawless and elegant.

Draco lifted a wand and tapped the stones in a pattern that he had become used to since his younger years. Left, right, up six, down three, right four, down two. The stones that he tapped turned from a grey, murky colored slab into obsidian, turning completely black before they began turning to form an entryway.

"There are several secrets of Malfoy Manor," Draco said in response to Hermione's awed expression. He glanced at her before stepping through the arch and lighting his wand tip. "Coming?"

Hermione turned towards him with her chin raised before strutting towards him, eyes narrowed and defiant. "It's just like the entrance to Diagon Alley."

"It's alike," he answered, turning to light the tunnel-like path in the dark. He went through first, knowing that the Gryffindor wouldn't trust him and would never blindly walk in a path that he directed her to walk in. His keen ears made sure to always hear her pattering steps behind him as he led the way towards the outside of the Manor.

They walked in silence, listening to occasional drips of water or scuttling of some bug or another. The two walked in a consistent pace, breathing steadily and sometimes shivering before wrapping their cloaks around them tighter for warmth.

"How long is this tunnel?" Hermione whispered, her warm breath coming out in billows in the bitter cold air. It was the first time either one of them had spoken.

Draco barely turned to look at her when he answered. "Not too long… we're almost there, I think. It leads to the entrance of the manor, right at the wooden floorboards in front of the double doors." He suddenly stopped walking as a crack of light appeared on top of them, a slash of white light against the black slabs of stone.

He now turned completely to stare with smoldering grey eyes at Hermione, who gazed at him with the same intensity.

"Hermione," Draco said slowly, savoring her name. "I want you to promise me that you will do everything to the best of your ability to not get hurt. There will be defenses all over the exit now that the Dark Lord has risen again. I don't… I don't want you to get hurt."

Hermione stared at him with an odd expression on her face before settling on a set expression. "No need to worry about that."

He looked slightly anxious before he raised his wand at the crack of light, whispering an incantation under his breath. The floorboards separated and a shaft of light shot through the enlarged crack, lighting on their figures and making them blink spastically to adapt to the sudden light.

Draco put both arms on the surface of the floor, pushing himself up lithely and quickly. He looked around, seeming to resemble a silver-eyed cat as he did, and then grabbed Hermione's elbow and then effortlessly lifted her onto the ground as well.

"Why didn't we simply walk to the front door?" Hermione whispered in his ear.

He shivered slightly when her warm breath washed across his skin and suppressed his urges to mark her as his mate. "My parents would stop us. The walls here have eyes and ears."

Draco reached forward to the silver doorknob, taking a deep breath. "Once we open the door, my parents will be alerted. Because the Head of the House (my father) didn't grant us permission, they will be immediately suspicious. Grab my hand and we'll run."

Hermione nodded jerkily, feeling adrenaline rush through her system. "I'm ready."

With a quick tug, he swung the door open and then rocketed out of the manor, nearly yanking Hermione's arm out of its socket. He then realized how much faster he was now and resolved to carry Hermione bridal style across the defense mechanisms.

Purple spells suddenly shot across the clearing, crisscrossing and creating patterns as they tried to strike the runaways. Draco ducked and flipped (in which Hermione yelped when he did that) and shot shield spells repeatedly. His shields were reinforced by Hermione's flailing wand-arm, which shot spell after spell repeatedly.

"DRACO!" His mother's shrill shriek punctured the air and made her sound more like the stereotypical Veela that screamed like a banshee. He heard his father curse and then hiss something that would've made Draco's grandmother wash his mouth with soap repeatedly.

_So close… _the perimeter line of the Malfoy's property was right ahead, and once they reached it, they would be able to apparate away…

Draco's arm tightened around Hermione's body when he heard her give a whimper. Was she feeling pain? With even more of a motivation to get to safety, he sprinted to the edge of the property and promptly apparated.

O

Hermione's mind was blurry and unclear as she was jostled back and forth. She felt a painful slash across her stomach, and her shirt was beginning to feel as if it were soaked. Draco's arms tightened around her and she buried her head in his chest, seeking comfort. In the moment, it didn't matter to her that it was Draco Malfoy she was seeking safety from. All that mattered was that he was protecting her and running for their lives.

A _crack _of apparition rang through the clearing, and she then felt the familiar sensation of being suffocated into a too small tube. Finally, the sucking sensation stopped and she felt like she could breathe again.

Hermione whimpered slightly as she felt Draco jog them to whatever destination he was planning to take them. She heard the door swing open after his kick and then heard the sharp thud of boots against wood.

She was laid down carefully on a soft bed, and Hermione heard a sharp hiss as she left Draco's arms.

"Does it hurt?" he demanded, and she felt gentle hands probing her stomach. She inhaled sharply, clenching her fists.

Hermione could feel the anger radiating off of his body as if it were tangible, his magic crackling in the air. However, she still felt the same feeling of protection as he slid his wand over her stomach, whispering healing spells under his breath.

"Is it that bad?" Hermione whispered hoarsely, daring to crack open an eye at him. She hadn't realized that silent tears were running down her face until she saw the teardrops on her eyelashes. Her stomach hurt terribly: it was as if someone had run a knife along her delicate skin.

Her gaze settled on his silver eyes. Draco's eyes were nearly spewing sparks out of them as his hands worked steadily on her bloodied stomach. The anger was so real that she knew that Malfoy wasn't good enough of an actor to fake it.

He didn't answer her until he finally whispered one last spell and touched her forehead. "Done," he said softly.

Hermione lifted her head and saw that the skin on her stomach was renewed and soft. Blood was still matted on it, but it no longer flowed from the cut. With a quick _scourgify, _the blood was gone, leaving her only slightly paler than normal.

"Where are we?" she murmured, taking in the surroundings.

Draco turned around and sat on a sofa, sighing slightly. "A little cottage that I bought. My parents never knew that this property was under my name."

"Is it warded?" Hermione inquired. She kept in mind to still remember to doubt him. He was, after-all, still a Death Eater.

"Yeah. Fidelius Charm… I'm Secret Keeper. Other wards are also up," Draco answered calmly. He seemed to have lost the previous anger that he had before.

Hermione nodded slowly, taking deep breaths. Her stomach was still slightly sore, but it seemed like the spell hadn't cut deep inside her system.

"Just rest," he said softly. "We'll discuss everything tomorrow."

Hermione couldn't refuse such a tempting suggestion, and she soon felt her eyes falling shut, soothed by the bass voice of Draco Malfoy.

**Author's Notes: **Yes, the plot thickens! I hope you guys liked this chappie… Please remember to **review! **


	7. What's Happening To Me?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Harry Potter'.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! A special thank you to the people who wished me a Happy Birthday. I hope you enjoy this next installment, and do remember to **please review! **

_Reviewers__**: **__sNAPpyDraGon, readme2023, OBLuvr13, alwaysthere2, Panther Eyes, jentrem99, BigTuna8, Caro09, PyroAngel8605, Like A Clockwork Orange, Loslote, amrawo, KittyFox1, queendd19, strivengoddess, slayerb8, vswimming12, miss quirky bookworm, D.M. Lover 21, Slytherin Princess 1313, undaniably AinsaneNerd, carnalbees, YearOfJudges, emelie95, DMandHG, Ayra Rider, Virgooster_

Shout-out to _sNAPpyDraGon: _Hm… cookies. And bunnies.

O

Silver eyes stared out at the horizon. The sun was just rising, a beautiful blend of gold, magenta, and burnt orange coloring the sky. How could life be so beautiful in these dark times? How could there be such glory, such shimmering, glimmering splendor while families were ripped apart?

Draco knew that, deep down; he had always known that the Dark side was never the right side. He knew that the Dark killed and murdered and tortured. But the Dark was strong. There was no reason for him to leave. His family was around him. He was pureblooded and a _Malfoy. _Why should he go sniveling to the all-knowing Professor _Dumbledore? _

Some people called it cowardice. He called it survival.

What good would it do him if he were to go, bawling, to the other side? What good would it do him, a Slytherin, to act like a bloody, noble Gryffindor? Even if he were to go to the other side, he would never be trusted. They'd be more likely to lock him up and chain him to the wall rather than welcome him in a warm embrace, shouting: "Oh, we love you Draco Malfoy! You were _so _kind to us in the last six years!"

However, once he found his mate, that all changed.

He knew that Hermione would never become a person of the Dark. She was too good, too Gryffindor, too _pure. _He also knew that Hermione would fight, fight the Dark Lord until her very last breath, rather than surrender to them. She would never turn traitor on her very best friends. She would defy the Dark Lord and risk her life for her Gryffindor pride.

Draco couldn't have the Dark Lord hurt her. When he watched him torture her, he felt as if his heart was going to rip apart. It was his duty, his _job, _to protect her. She was his, and he was hers. No one can touch a single hair on her head.

It was as if there was another part of him that reached out to Hermione Granger. There was a part of his soul, pure and formidable, that was already linked to her. That part of him would wither away if she never ended up caring for him.

Hell, he was going to die.

Strangely, it didn't bother him. Dying would be painless: an escape of reality. No Dark Lord would follow his path, looking for his blood. No hard decisions. No need to kill. No need to follow.

But it would leave Hermione alone on this Earth: alone, vulnerable, and nothing but prey to the other people. Even with him, she was hit with a dark curse. She was so delicate, so easy to break.

Draco blamed himself for her pain. He should've protected her better.

His pale hands clenched into a fist, knuckles white. He had recognized that curse that hit her while they fled Malfoy Manor. In fact, it was his father's proud invention.

While Draco had healed all of the bloody wounds that had stretched across Hermione's skin, there was a part of the spell that was lodged deep into her body. It would grow and grow, inflicting more pain every time. It would strike as internal pain for the first couple of months, and finally, her body would start destroying itself on the outside.

Furious, stormy grey eyes glared.

There was no known remedy for this curse. When Lucius created this dark spell, he was in such a rush to present it to his _wonderful _master that he never bothered to create an antidote. Why would the Dark side need such an antidote anyways? Anyone who would be hit with the spell couldn't be worth more than crap.

Draco stood up, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he stalked inside the house. He was rather proud of himself for creating this 'just-in-case' cottage that was only meant for emergencies.

His eyes flickered to her sleeping form. Walking over to her softly, he gingerly picked up a small strand of her hair and brushed it back, savoring how it felt against his skin.

He loved how she was so different from the other girls. She wasn't impossibly skinny, unlike the anorexic girls that frequently flirted and batted their fake eyelashes to get his attention. Her hair was untamed and wild –– just like her spirit. She would not break easily, and that he knew.

There was only one thing that Draco could think of that might cure the curse. It was a far shot, but he believed that making her his mate would solve the problem. He was, after all, a Veela, and Veelas had stronger limbs and magic. With a stronger body, she would be able to repel the curse and her body would be able to heal itself.

The question was: Would she believe him?

Hermione let out a soft sigh, turning over slightly. Her hands pillowed her head, ducking her head down slightly as she slept. She murmured something softly under her breath, saying it so quietly that not even Draco, with his keen Veela senses, could hear her.

Her eyelids fluttered open, yawning and stretching as she awoken. Draco got up silently, slinking away from her. He predicted that she would be disconcerted and thoroughly afraid of him when she woke up, and if the first thing she saw was her childhood-sworn enemy, it would not help his case.

Sleepily, Hermione lazily brushed the thick mane of hair back, yawning for the second time.

She really was a lioness, Draco mused.

He watched as her amber, cider-colored eyes begin to focus. The blissful oblivion that came with sleep had begun to seep away, now replaced with alertness and fear.

"Granger," Draco said softly, so as to not scare her.

Hermione flinched, her head swiveling around to stare at him. She said nothing at first, her hand twitching and seeming to move towards her wand, before reality sunk in. Her face, once displaying her emotions openly, was immediately masked and composed.

"Malfoy," she said curtly, brushing her fingers through her hair.

Draco nodded slowly, standing up and unconsciously beginning to pace. His pale hands were clasped behind his stiff, straightened back, silver eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"Where are we?" Hermione inquired, her voice professional. However, her eyes showed a different side of the story. Her intelligent eyes showed panic, doubt, and possibly, fear. Her hand crept discreetly to her pillow and withdrew, wand in hand.

Draco's sharp eyes immediately snapped to her wand before they flickered back to her. "Silver Glades," he answered, looking out the window at the frosty blades of grass. The land, just like its name, did resemble a stretch of a sparkling silver essence of nature.

"Silver Glades?"

"I bought this place," Draco elaborated, nodding at her, "only a couple of years ago. I wanted a place of my own, and because I was a secretive child, I never informed my parents. You never knew if an emergency hideout was needed."

Hermione's eyes widened, her teeth gnawing at her lip. "You bought this… on your own?"

Draco shrugged, turning to smirk at the bewildered Gryffindor. "I have my own stash of money at Gringotts, Granger. And yes," he added on, watching Hermione's mouth open to question him, "this place is properly warded. I'm Secret Keeper. I do believe that we've had this conversation not long ago."

"I had to make sure," Hermione answered, staring at him intensely.

Draco wanted to snort. Gryffindors were too easy to read. Her intense stare showed that Hermione was trying to read his face as if it were one of those tomes that she buried her head into. Of course, he also knew that she wouldn't gain any knowledge from him: he was, after all, a Slytherin. He was born to lie and deceit, truth be told.

"How do we find Harry and Ron?" her voice cut through his thoughts.

Another shrug. "We'll visit some villages, undercover of course, and see if the Golden Boy and his weasel has ever been sighted. Though I highly doubt that we'll find any information, it's worth a try."

Hermione pursed her lips, looking scarily like Professor McGonagall in that moment. "If Volde––"

Draco suddenly launched himself at her, pinning her down onto the bed and smothering her words with a hand over her mouth. He saw her eyes widen with terror, staring at him with naive horror.

"Sh," he hissed softly into her ear. "His name is tabooed. Whoever whispers his name will be automatically detected and hunted down," Draco's cold hands wrapped around Hermione's small wrists, his body hovering over hers.

Hermione nodded almost imperceptibly, seeming strangely relieved and scared a the same time, her breath shaky.

After staring at her for another moment, Malfoy pulled away reluctantly, his Veela side howling at him with frustration.

Hermione gulped slightly, refusing to look at the Slytherin who was sitting across from her, his face void of all emotion.

It really was strange, she thought. His grey eyes nearly seemed to glow whenever he felt anything more than dull emotions. Perhaps it was a Veela trait? Or was it… Or was it _her? _

She braved looking at him through her peripherals, heat rising up her neck. Coughing delicately, she snuck another glance. "Um… as I was saying," she said, her voice unsteady and lacking the usual confidence. "If… _You-Know-Who… _can't find Harry and Ron, chances are we won't either."

Draco raised a blond eyebrow at her. "The Dark Lord lacks the Veela senses that I have. However, it is true that we probably won't be able to find the two Gryffindorks. We'll have to find other means to search for them."

His face was well composed. With his face muscles relaxed and a casually raised eyebrow, he did look rather normal and impassive.

Hermione wondered if he even _wanted _to find Harry and Ron. Veelas were very possessive, and both Harry and Ron were males. Though Hermione never felt anything for Harry other than sibling affection, Ron was another story. They bickered and fought, but somehow, Hermione still loved him. However, 'love' had several different meanings.

"Granger."

Hermione turned around to face him, attempting to keep down a blush when she realized that she was looking at him again.

Dammit, how could he be so _calm?_

"Have you ever heard of the Thousand Array?" Draco asked softly.

She stared at him blankly.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "The great Hermione Granger not knowing something? We must record today's date. Perhaps it'll be written in the next edited version of _Hogwarts, A History." _

She reached forward and smacked him on the arm. "I'll bet that it's something dark."

At this, his to-be smirk that had deepened at the contact of skin immediately disappeared. His eyes darkened, not in a way that was meant to frighten her, but it still had that effect.

"I mean…" Hermione immediately backtracked, keeping on a brave mask as she shifted uneasily. "I didn't… I don't…"

"I know that you don't trust me, _Hermione_," Draco said, his voice harsh and low. "But as long as I don't distinguish you for your blood, you must treat _me _the same. I am not a Death Eater despite the marking on my arm. I may be pureblooded and the name 'Malfoy' may be an influential, but that doesn't mean that _I _try to be a murderer. You may not realize it, but _you _are just as prejudiced as _I _am."

A blank expression quickly cloaked Hermione's shocked face that had appeared during his speech. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of something to say in return, sometimes looking indignant while other times seeming apologetic.

Draco leaned back, saying without emotion: "As I was saying before, the Thousand Array plays a very important part in our goal to destroy the Dark Lord. It's a mineral that projects power and enhances a wizard or witch's magic. The soul's properties are changed and morphed into a stronger, and possibly darker, essence."

Having recovered from her momentary lapse of astonishment, Hermione arranged her face to be nonchalant as she curiously questioned him. "Volde–– You-Know-Who is looking for this 'Thousand Array'?"

He nodded. His voice had lacked the companionship that it once had, Hermione noted, and though he was certainly not hostile, he wasn't quite warm either. She was sure that his Veela side had prevented him from attacking her out of temper and anger.

"The Dark Lord," Draco answered, "is aware of this mineral and desires it. Its formal, Latin name is: '_Milia Aciem_'. A beautiful, colorful stone, it can make a person nearly immortal. It can make an average person into a human more powerful than a Veela. In any other case, the Dark Lord desires this stone because it increases his power, making it beyond a wizard or witch's possible magical value."

Hermione nodded slowly. "How do we prevent You-Know-Who from getting the Thousand Array?"

Silver eyes flickered to her face, his jaw set. "We get it before him."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened. Her mind whirled a thousand miles per hour. How could they possibly find an ancient artifact that has been inactive for centuries? It could be anywhere in the world: nothing specified if it was even in Europe!

Even if they were to find the _Milia Aciem, _what would they do with the mineral's power? Hermione gulped slightly, watching Draco carefully. Did _he _want power? If they were to possess the Thousand Array, would he use it for himself? Despite the fact that he had saved her, she couldn't find it in herself to trust him. The lure of conquering the world and being a leader would forever taunt the human beings.

"And while we search for this stone, we'll keep a lookout for the Order?"

Draco was silent for a heartbeat, a sizzling magic surrounding him. "We'll try," he finally confirmed. "Pothead and Weasel will probably try to 'rescue' you from Malfoy Manor. It'd be best if we found them before they decide to be your heroes."

Hermione's eyes widened at the thought of Harry and Ron trying to rescue her. What if they got caught? She knew that Lucius Malfoy and the lot of Death Eaters wouldn't be waiting around and saving the Boy-Who-Lived. No, Voldemort would be quickly alerted and her two best friends' lives would be ended.

"Read this," Draco directed, standing up and grabbing a thick book off of the wooden table. He handed it to her, eyebrows raised.

Hermione bit her lip and took it, her fingers skimming over the dusty cover. The golden letters _'Magic's Most Powerful Creations' _laced across it, glinting and standing out against the blurred, beige background.

She flipped it open, turning the pages slowly, as if afraid that the old, crinkled pages would rip. Hermione skimmed the 'Table of Contents', chewing on her lip before flipping carefully to the said page.

**The Thousand Array**

_Milia Aciem_

_An formidable and powerful magical artifact, the Thousand Array is one of the Wizarding World's most ancient stones in existence. While it has been unable to be found in the past centuries, popular belief is that the stone is somewhere, lurking in a dark cave. However, because of its enigmatic history and trail, the Thousand Array hasn't been tracked in years._

"_The crystals flash a thousand points of light as the stone is moved."_

_With teals, greens, electric blue, sparkling deep lavenders and magentas that spill down the smooth sides, this mineral is made of 'Titanium Druzy', a beautiful mineral known to have a vibrant array of colors that is treasured in society. Nearly impossible to capture accurately on camera, the Thousand Array is known for its magical properties as well._

_Known assist with meditation and the stimulation of the movement of the Kundalini to the crown chakra, it is known to increase the power of a human's instinctual abilities. It removes obstacles linking a body to a soul and allows a creature to use the connection fully. Furthermore, the Thousand Array enhances powers, especially the art of Legilimency. _

When she finished reading, Hermione looked up, still gnawing on her bottom lip. "You-Know-Who… wants _this?" _

Draco nodded confirmative, looking nearly murderous as he glared at the floor. "He's power hungry and insane. Of course he'd search for all means of immortality. Though the _Milia Aciem _cannot assure eternal life, it gets pretty damned close."

"But it's been gone for centuries! We can't possibly find it…"

The heir of the Malfoy fortune shook his head slowly. "I have sources, and I have a feeling that a certain person at Knockturn Alley can help us with that. She's independent and closed, and I'm sure that she can assist…"

"Pray tell, _how _are we going to enter _Knockturn Alley?" _Hermione demanded.

"Polyjuice Potion," Draco answered promptly, smirking smugly. "I have a store of it in a potion storage cabinet in this house. All we'll need is to attack a weak unit of lower Death Eaters and we'll be fine."

"We need to plan, of course…"

"I wasn't expecting anything else from you, Granger."

Hermione's expression was annoyed, though not the 'angry annoyed', but rather the 'friendly annoyed', if that could be distinguishable. Abruptly, her expression morphed into one akin to pain, lurching forward and looking like she was gagging. Her pupils were dilated in torturous fear, and suddenly, a spasm passed through her body. Her pale hands clutched her head as if trying to pull off her skin.

Draco caught her before she fell to the ground, cursing under his breath. His father's curse was working its dark magic on her body…

He had to try harder to win her affections.

On the other hand, Draco was sure that, if Hermione knew the solution, she would become his mate if it cured the curse within her… But mating did not matter to him now. She was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Hermione," he whispered, cradling her small body. "Hermione… sh…" Concentrating on the exotic magic in his blood, Draco touched her neck, allowing some of his magic to transfer into her bloodstream. He flexed his muscles, feeling a slight drainage, but he didn't care. As long as it soothed her…

Hermione whimpered slightly, trembling. "What's… what's happening to me?"

**Author's Notes: **Yes, that's about it for this chapter. Yay, I came up with an actual plot! So do give me your thoughts on it: I'm curious. **Please review!**


	8. I Hate You So Much

**Author's Notes: **Goodness me, I haven't updated in a month! That, my friend, I am terribly sorry for. I just haven't been feeling like writing for the last couple of weeks. Anyhow, I'm back with chapter eight! I love you all for your comments: they make me feel all happy! Do tell me how you feel about this one.

_Reviewers: Loslote, Panther Eyes, SharpestSatire, PersephoneTricked, jtrem, hanav77, miss quirky bookworm, amrawo, Miss Elizabeth12, Abused and secretive Angel, voldyismyfather, DramioneLover36, sNAPpyDraGon, vswimming12, emelie95, kat24, DMandHG, KittyFox1, kh2020, Elena0017, D.M. Lover 21, SaaamForLife, Megan Consoer, elizaII, shadowed-thorn, Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike, Purple Hobbit, ireallyamtellingthetruth, avrilavril, cosmoGirl666_

_Shout-out to Panther Eyes: _Now that you mention it, I might just not mention the Deathly Hallows. It wouldn't play a large role in this story if I did, and as much as I hate cutting something that J.K. Rowling wrote, I just don't feel like balancing so much information. As for Hermione… You're just going to have to keep on guessing!

O

_Hermione whimpered slightly, trembling. "What's… what's happening to me?"_

Draco's silver eyes were filled with turmoil and indecision as he stared into her pained state. His mate was in pain… He _needed _to take that pain away… His Veela side battled with the more rational and human side of his heart and mind as he gazed at the girl.

"Malfoy? P-Please, tell me," Hermione whispered, her voice quavering at the end. She was a Gryffindor, and as an extension, she was proud and brave, but it was foolish to keep up a façade when in such pain. The sharp, fiery jabs of pain still lingered in her body, only slowly fading away. It would always be burned into her mind.

He blinked once, lifting a hand and lightly brushing away a curl from Hermione's face. Draco immediately froze, gauging her reaction, and noticeably calmed when he saw that she hadn't realized what he had done subconsciously.

"Malfoy!" Hermione repeated, this time with more vigor. Her strength was slowly returning, and the blood seemed to be circulating, her face regaining color. "I deserve to know my own body's condition!"

"Her–– Granger," Draco said slowly, catching himself just before he spoke her first name. His Veela instincts were getting stronger, he knew, and slowly, it would dominate him if he didn't convince Hermione that he was _the one _for her. "Granger."

"I need to know! I _deserve _to know! I _deserve to know, so stop keeping secrets from me, Malfoy!" _her eyebrows formed a 'v' as she stared him down, brown eyes flashing irritably. Her temper rose surprisingly fast–– probably because she felt the need to defend herself from the previously vulnerable position that she had been in before.

Draco blinked again. She really was endearing when she threw a tantrum; she looked as if a Greek goddess in war, eyes blazing and shining in all of her power. _My Veela side is a bloody poet. _

"Granger, do sit down and let me explain."

Hermione eyed him skeptically, looking indecisive as her eyes flickered from the chair to him and then back to the chair. She took a deep breath to calm herself, wincing slightly as if the movement hurt her, and then sat down on the wooden chair, looking at him expectantly.

If Draco had noticed her momentary pause in pain, he covered his instinctual reaction. Instead, he looked away quickly before turning back, clasping his pale hands together in front of him.

"You remember when we fled Malfoy Manor not too long ago?"

She nodded, snorting slightly. It was not to be an experience that would be forgotten: flying spells, forming free patterns of death traps and snares, and Draco's father and Bellatrix, screaming and shouting, eyes blazing with anger. No, she would never forget.

"You were hit with a spell that day, as you can recall." His voice was smooth, but there was as if a dark tint to it that was ominous and threatening.

"You mean to say that that _curse _is still effecting me now?" Hermione whispered, catching on quickly. "Do you mean to say that I am still suffering from the lingering effects of a dark spell?"

Draco, half impressed with how quickly she caught on (she wasn't called the Smartest Witch of Her Age for nothing, after all), shook his head almost imperceptibly. "In a way, you are correct. It is the very same curse that is causing the pain in your body. However, it isn't the lingering effects. This curse tends to strike, lay dormant for an amount of time, and then become active again, starting a pattern and becoming more painful every time."

Hermione paled visibly, her jaw locking as her fingers curled over the edge armrest. "It becomes more painful every time?" she whispered hoarsely, gnawing on her bottom lip. She clenched and unclenched her jaw, and you could literally see the gears working in her mind.

"Yes."

"And… does it ever heal? Does the curse ever… banish? Or will it keep on… until I…" Hermione cleared her throat, seeming to be struggling over her words.

The Veela turned to face her, slowly, as if a robot. "There may be one way," he said quietly, his eyes turning a shade brighter, if possible. He saw her straighten her shoulders slightly, sitting up straighter with a new air of determination. _Bloody Gryffindors. _

Draco leaned back, speaking each word with articulation so that every syllable sunk in. "I have a theory that becoming a Veela's mate will vanquish the curse." He watched her reaction carefully, seeing her eyes widen before they narrowed again with suspicion.

Hermione now glared at him. "A _theory, _am I correct? There are no _guarantees _that I would heal." Her tone was painted with accusation and doubt.

"There are many pieces of evidence that it would work," Draco countered, folding his arms. "My father was the one who invented the curse. He––"

"And you didn't bother to learn the counter curse?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes into brown slits now. Her voice dripped of sarcasm.

Draco leaned forward, unfolding his arms and clasping them together in front of him once again. "My father never considered needing any antidote for his own spell. Don't accuse me of lying when I haven't. On the other hand, my father based this spell on the weaknesses of a human body. He studied the Cruciatus curse and took the main components out of it: internal scars, side affects, and the terrifying pain in general.

"Lucius wanted to add _more, _however, to please his Dark Lord. He came up with the idea of adding more pain every time to build up the suspense and fear, adding external scars after a month, and finally killing the victim in the end. However, along the way, he predicted that the victim would come crawling back to him, wanting the antidote. Lucius would have the victim do his biding, pretending that there was actually a way to get rid of the curse, and basically control the said person. A horrifying combination of three Unforgivables: _pain, control, and kill. _

"My father based this curse on the fact that a human body would be unable to overcome this much pain and would not be able to defend themselves. But he loved Narcissa, they had been together for years as Veela and mate, and Lucius wanted to ensure that a Veela would be able to survive such a curse, should someone decide to kill his wife. He did not add any incantation that would break the Veela's shielded protection and powerful magic."

Hermione drank in this information with revulsion and a slight amount of admiration. Revulsion, obviously because of the motive to kill a human's body and soul, and admiration, because she could see the thought and amount of skill put into this very curse.

Oh, and revulsion, because Malfoy had a very fine argument that supported his theory.

"Because of the Veela's stronger attributes, the Veela would be able to survive the curse. So I assume that a Veela's mate, who acquires part of the Veela's power and magic, can possibly survive and fight off the curse as well?" Hermione inquired, wanting confirmation.

Draco nodded, peering at her to find a speck of emotion.

Hermione bit her lip, the more untrusting and bitter part of her brain nagging at her, saying that it was all a trick to get her to become his mate. It was _too _convenient for him.

"How do I know if this is just a ruse to get me to become your mate? It's _perfect _for you. I'm not physically _forced _into this, you get a mate that is _unharmed _and _completely willing_, and you get to live on. How do I know if you are lying? You may have presented valid points, but those could be lies as well." Hermione tried to keep her voice polite and composed, but near the end of her mini speech, it was turning into a sneer. She thought she saw a flicker of hurt in those mercury depths before it disappeared… or was masked.

"If you don't _try, _you will _die, _Granger," Draco hissed. "I don't have to prove anything to you. _You _are the one in pain, and _I'm _the one that's trying to help you. If you don't want help, then just let Fate take you down that path!"

Hermione bristled. "Yeah? And you suppose that I can simply _trust _you after the history we've had? Oh, you've been nothing but hostile to Harry, Ron, and I! Why in the world should I believe that you are still trying to help me?"

"I rescued you from Malfoy Manor. Is that nothing to you? Of course, stealing out a massive mansion full of Death Eaters is _nothing _to the Golden Girl of the Golden Trio! No, you've had worse!"

The Gryffindor sat up, the chair toppling over and crashing to the floor, but none of the two arguing people paid it any heed. "You are still the same taunting _boy _that you were before. I was beginning to think that you were all right, but I was _wrong. _No, you are still the same arrogant Slytherin that has an inflated ego and doesn't see anything but yourself. _Grow up!" _

Draco gritted his teeth, and it was apparent that only his Veela side was keeping him from lunging at her and slapping her in the face. "Me? _Grow up? _You are the one being naïve and immature. You can't get past your _childhood_ to save yourself. I try to help you, and all I get are _accusations. _I've told you before to get past your prejudices, as I have you. You _haven't, _Granger. I wonder if you ever _will_."

"Your little _Dark Side _is winning, Malfoy! I have a right to doubt you, and you know that too––"

"I swore on the _Malfoy name," _Draco stood up, his voice deadly soft. "I swore on my word as a _Malfoy _to _protect you _and _never associate with the Dark Side for dark purposes. _I left my family for _you. _I put my own life in great risk for _you. _Is that not enough for _you_?" Without waiting for an answer or a reaction, he exited the room, shaking in fury.

O

For the rest of the day, the two didn't talk. They avoided each other, which was quite the incredible feat, considering the size of the cottage. Though Draco had been a spoiled little brat when he was younger, his 'emergency' house certainly lacked in the luxury.

On the other hand, Hermione found that she quite liked Silver Glades. When she wasn't ducking into a spare room or sprinting across the narrow halls when she heard his footsteps, she enjoyed the slow, peaceful environment that the cozy cottage provided. The view was beautiful and almost hazy.

Hermione knew that they both had overreacted. Both people had faults, and though she had truly believed that she had been correct while she was arguing, she saw a slightly different perspective as she replayed their argument over and over again.

Draco _did _give up a lot for their runaway mission. He had been patient with her when she doubted him, which was very often. She also admitted that she had been slightly childish.

However, she also had good reasons as to why she _should _doubt him. It was perfectly logical that she didn't trust him. He also did have the same temper and mocking edge to his voice whenever he spoke, and she supposed that that would be hard to change.

It would be difficult to keep peace in the house. The two of them simply couldn't find the patience to throw away their pride and act civil. They had, after all, been bickering since they both stepped foot on Hogwarts Express.

Another two days passed, and both people were still trying their best to avoid each other. They settled into a routine –– Hermione ate lunch and dinner first (the kitchen was stored with magicked food that would probably last a lifetime) and had breakfast last. Draco would prepare breakfast early in the morning (he woke up earlier) and leave something for Hermione, and at noon, Hermione fixed lunch and left something for Draco after he came back from who-knows-where. Dinner was an unplanned affair, but most of the time, Hermione made dinner for two and left Draco's out on the table for whenever he came back (again, from who-knows-where).

It was on the fourth day that they actually saw of each other again.

Another spasm of pain had attacked Hermione's body that day, and Draco had positively ran to her room, hearing her muffled screams, and flung open the door. She was sitting in fetal position, her head in her pillow, her arms wrapped protectively around her body.

Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her body, whispering comforting nothings, rocking her back and forth as if she were a child. She screamed into his shirt, releasing the tear-stained pillow. Desperately, Draco transferred some more of his magic into her to soothe the pain ever so slightly, but it was still there, creating tremors of electricity and pain that was even more powerful than before.

Hermione cried into his shirt, staining it with her wet tears, but he didn't seem to mind. Her arms wrapped themselves around his waist, holding him as if an anchor to the world.

"Sh…" Draco whispered, combing his fingers gently through her messy strands of hair. He brushed away the hair that was plastered to her forehead because of the sweat. Her body shivered and trembled in his arms, comparatively smaller than him.

It took longer than before, but once the trembling stopped, Draco slipped his arms away, a barrier forming between his two personalities. Hermione immediately hugged herself once the warm contact was gone, looking vulnerable as she sat on the bed herself. Her wide, cider-colored eyes stared up at him, young and afraid.

After contemplating his decision, Draco leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips against her forehead. "Rest," he said softly, eyebrows pushed together in concern before he turned and backed out of the room slowly, closing the door.

O

Hermione had awoken a day later, her body curled up protectively. Every muscle felt sore, but otherwise, there were no signs of outward injury. Memories of the day before rushed back at her, and she flinched when she remembered the pain.

Hermione realized that she had to talk to _him._

Just before the pain had struck, she had also realized that, at any moment, Harry and Ron might by planning to attack the Manor to rescue her. They may be risking their lives right then to rescue her while Hermione and Malfoy, both safe, were just ignoring each other because of an childish argument.

Sighing, she pulled a comb through her hair, gritting her teeth as she yanked it through a knot. Malfoy had returned from the first day with clothing and toiletries for her, and she had sputtered wordlessly when she opened the closet door to be greeted with t-shirts and pants.

Hermione doubted that Malfoy stayed out late every day to _shop _for her. But, nevertheless, she found the prospect slightly funny.

On the other hand, he had been there when the curse had attacked her from within once again. She had nearly been delirious from pain, and she couldn't see anything. Just feeling him beside her soothed her, and she had latched onto him blindly, needing the comfort.

Sighing once again, she clumped down the stairs. She had forced herself to get up early so that she could talk to him, and Hermione yawned tiredly when she reached the first floor.

She walked in on the sight of Draco Malfoy, eating cereal (Cheerios, to be exact), his crown of white-blonde hair tussled and messy. The bruising eye bags under his eyes seemed more prominent than before.

Draco looked up in surprise when she walked in, running his fingers through his hair as he turned to gaze at her. "Morning," he greeted, gesturing for her to sit down.

Hermione nodded and sat, watching him carefully. He looked stressed and tired, as if he hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep for the last couple of days. Was it because of their argument? Was it because of her pain? Feeling guilty, she looked away from his face.

"We need to talk," Draco began, putting down his spoon.

The Gryffindor nodded her agreement, pushing her hair behind her ears.

Draco took a deep breath, staring at the table. "I want to apologize for overreacting that day. Those words weren't necessary," he said, looking as if every word was hurting him. His face contorted into a look of concentration. "I know I've apologized to you before, at the Manor. But I really am sorry."

Hermione peered at him, and she nodded her forgiveness. "I want to say that I'm sorry as well. I was rather selfish, as well as untrusting."

He nodded as well, looking as if a large burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. "On the other hand, I want to talk about what we're going to do next. You can't… I can't… Just… You can't keep on suffering from the curse. You can only fight it for so long before it leaves you permanent reminders, and I'm asking you to be open-minded and consider my theory."

She bit her lip. "I will consider it," she answered softly. "Truthfully."

"Good. Just… tell me when you come to an answer. Better sooner than later," Draco said. "As for the Thousand Array… I've been out watching Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. My source is still there, and I'm sure that we may be able to reach her under the cover of Polyjuice."

"You've been _watching _Knockturn Alley?" Hermione demanded, the quiet 'apologizing' session completely over. "Do you understand how _dangerous _that is? What if you got caught? You know what would happen if––"

"I didn't know you cared so much," Draco interrupted, grey eyes seemingly impassive.

Hermione recoiled slightly, mouth open. "I… I just meant… Well, I'd be quite alone out here, and…"

Draco just waved his hand, saving her from further stammering and/or embarrassment. "I used a Disillusionment Charm as well as several others to secure my supposed non-being. So here's the plan…"

**Author's Notes: **So what do you think of it? It was an okay-length chappie, and I hope I didn't disappoint. Do review and send me your thoughts!


	9. Believing Him

**Author's Notes: **I'm sorry for not updating lately! I've been taking a slight rest from fanfiction, but as soon as summer comes along, updates will pick up, I promise! Please do review to help me improve and also as encouragement. A special mention to _Cissi418_, my 200th reviewer!

_Reviewers: amrawo, BigTuna8, jtrem, sNAPpyDraGon, p.g, Edward-is-sexier-than-Mike, Panther Eyes, HPmadness12, Loslote, ireallyamtellingthetruth, Slytherin Princess 1313, miss quirky bookworm, readme2023, OBLuvr13, Trussrr, kataragurl27, One Can't Hide, D.M. Lover 21, Cissi418, Dark Warrior, amber, fifiBlack, compa16, birningice _

_Shout-out to Panther Eyes: _My, you're going to take all of the shout-outs, aren't you? (: Your reviews are thoughtful and helpful, I really do enjoy reading them. Anyhow, onto your actual review last chapter. The nobler side of Hermione would definitely agree with you. The only thing is that if Draco is quite trustworthy right then, she could avoid being emotionally and physically scarred for life by choosing to trust him. No, this is not a hint at the future of this story (: Just a reminder that this story is rated T: Veelas only need to bite their mate to claim them. I'm sorry, but I don't write smut :/

O

"For heaven's sake, woman! For the billionth time, _no!" _Draco hollered. He stood up, his hand pressed to the small, wooden table (which was alarmingly shaking and creaking).

Hermione immediately stood up as well, leaning forward to glare at him. "I can and will help you get the hairs for the Polyjuice Potion! I am not some incompetent, blubbering girl that your stereotypical pureblooded female turns out to be! You know that cornering two Death Eaters will go along much faster if I come with you."

It was quite a sight: the expressionless and cool Slytherin Prince losing his hold over his emotions, towering over the indignant Gryffindor, who, despite being dwarfed by his size, was glaring at him. Her eyes flashed stubbornly, and Hermione jabbed an index finger at his chest accusingly.

Draco narrowed his silver eyes, bending forward to glare back at her, face to face. "_You _know that _I _have the advantage of being a Malfoy. I can catch them off guard, and––"

"Just because you're this precious heir to the Malfoy family doesn't mean that they won't kill you!"

"… And my Veela blood makes me stronger than any other witch or wizard," Draco finished, ignoring her interruption. "I'm not saying that you're incompetent, I'm saying that you're in more danger. As a muggleborn and friend of Harry Potter, _you _are one of the top 'Most Wanted' people in England."

There was a pause, and, suddenly noticing that their noses were nearly touching, Hermione scuttled backwards, falling back into her chair in surprise at their proximity. After another beat of awkward silence, Draco lowered himself back into his chair slowly, taking a deep breath and clasping his hands in front of him on the table, which had miraculously held up during the argument.

Hermione cleared her throat, folding her arms over her chest. "_Anyways," _she said, her face a little red, "I do want to point out that _you _were found fleeing with one of the 'Most Wanted' people of England. _You _are high on the list now, as well."

Another pause ensued.

"You don't know how it feels," Draco spoke, his voice softer now, "to be a Veela. It's like… It's like having something, _someone, _be everything that you will ever fight for. You'd throw away everything for that person. You'd do _anything. _And you can't fight it. Honestly, you don't wantto fight it. I can't let you be hurt, Hermione, and I'm begging you to stay behind."

_He just called me Hermione. _

Hermione stared at him, her arms dropping limply to her sides. He chuckled, gazing out of the window, where the sun was beginning to descend below the distant hills. The sky was a pretty shade of magenta, lavender, fiery orange, and gold, darkening as the day ended.

"I thought I'd never see the day that I would ever beg for anything," Draco murmured, leaning back with his hands behind his head. Hermione's eyes flickered to the defined muscles on his chest before quickly glancing back at his face, praying that he hadn't noticed. If he had, he didn't show it.

She cleared her throat again before speaking. "Don't… Don't Veelas want to be near their mates most of the time?" she questioned.

"Veelas would rather be far away from their mates if it meant that it would keep them safe. Granger… Don't you understand? I don't know if I would've left the Dark Side if I hadn't attached myself to you. I don't know if I would've left my friends and my family… Mother must be broken hearted, and Father must be furious."

"So… are you still attached to the Dark Side, deep within? Somewhere beyond the Veela magic inside of you… Do you still want to be back at Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked, and, for once, it wasn't in a condemning tone.

Draco gave her a wry smile. "No. Many of us don't want to be part of the Dark Side… Take my mother, for example. She hates it there… hates the Dark Lord, and, if it were possible, I'm sure that a part of her hates what my father has become. But her Veela side won't let her hate him; she can only love him until the end of time. Many of my Slytherin classmates, you know the majority of them: Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davies, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Adrian Pucey, Vaisey, Urquhart… there are so many of us who don't want to be on _that _side, but we're expected to. We were raised to do what our parents do: hate muggleborns and become Death Eaters. Not all of us are defected… I know that Montague has an affinity for Unforgivables… but you can't always generalize when it comes to Slytherins."

Hermione nodded slowly, and, with a pang, she realized that she believed him.

_She _believed _him. _

"Back on the original talk," Draco said, pulling his fingers through his messy blonde hair, "I can't let you come with me. If you get hurt, I won't be able to control my own actions. Maybe I'll kill them. Maybe I'll leap in front of you to block the attacker. What if you Lucius' spell attacks you in the middle of it?"

Hermione took a deep breath, meeting his eyes as she looked up. "Please, Malfoy. I… I want to go with you. I _need _to. I've fought along Harry and Ron for a long time, and though we've been through a lot, they both tend to depend on each other, rather than look for me. They look for me when they need help with homework, or research, or anything else… but not fighting. They want to protect me, just like you. But I want to help. I want to fight alongside the Light. Please… Draco."

She didn't know if it was her nearly defeated tone that did it, or if it was the fact that she had called him 'Draco', but all that mattered to her was that he reluctantly said yes.

O

The next morning, Hermione leapt out of bed, messily got dressed and cleaned, and then nearly tripped down the stairs as she descended them, two at a time. She saw breakfast waiting for her, and Draco was already packing large sets of cloaks, robes, and four vials of Polyjuice Potion in a bag.

"Hoping to leave without me by getting up early?" Hermione teased, wolfing down some toast (after speaking, of course, because talking while eating was Ron's thing, not hers).

Draco smirked his patented Malfoy smirk and answered with a mysterious and suspicious, "maybe."

That was probably the most pleasant conversation that they ever had.

After she finished choking down her breakfast, Draco aimed his wand at her face and changed her features: a pointier nose, higher cheekbones, lighter skin, straight dirty-blonde hair, and azure eyes.

"Why, may I ask, do we need Polyjuice Potion if we can just transfigure our features?" Hermione questioned after she felt the strange, cold, and gelatinous sensation wash over her face that signified that the transformation was complete.

"Just in case they use _Finite Incantatem _on us," Draco answered, shrugging as he did. "Plus, we have an identity that minimizes risk of being caught lying. If we used our own transfigured version of ourselves to stroll into Knockturn Alley, we might get caught. That's why we're attacking a group of five Death Eaters who will be circling a small neighborhood."

"Is it worth the risk of attacking five Death Eaters?"

Draco peered down at her, and he could see the telltale signs of anxiety on her beautiful face.

"Don't worry, Granger. We'll separate two of the Death Eaters from the others, and then we'll pop right out of there."

Hermione nodded slowly, aiming her wand at Draco's face. She was surprised to see that he didn't flinch when she aimed her wand at him, and she couldn't suppress the smallest of giggles when she saw him go cross-eyed as he stared at her wand, which was pointed to the top of his nose.

The Veela felt a burst of triumph for making her laugh, doing a jig in Draco's mind, even if the laugh lasted only for a second.

He felt the same cool sensation take over, his skin stretching and shrinking, and for a moment, he thought that the Gryffindor had made him as hideous as possible. But one glance in the mirror reassured him that he looked like an average lad on the street. With darker skin (his skin couldn't possibly get paler from before), green eyes, dark hair, and smoother features, Draco thought that she might be trying to recreate Harry on his face, but not so that people would immediately think that he was the Wonder Boy.

Jealousy ripped through his internal organs, and he imagined ripping apart the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die again and again.

"Let's go," he said, and he took hold of her wrist, tugging her out of the door, the bag slung over his muscular arm. The moment they reached the line separating Silver Glades and the outside world, they punctually apparated.

O

Hermione felt strong arms immediately wrap around her waist the moment they arrived in the cold, deserted lane. Her last Side-Along Apparition experience had been when she was at the point of delirium while fleeing the scene at Malfoy Manor, and her head now spun dizzily. The arms around her tightened, pressing her to his body securely, she already knew that Draco was the one holding her up, steadying her.

Was it a bad sign that she recognized his arms?

Hermione blearily opened her eyes, thanking Malfoy quietly before leaving the warm haven within his arms, her Gryffindor pride not allowing her to be helped much longer. Sharp eyes surveyed the currently empty lot. It wasn't a place that she recognized, but it seemed as if the colder-but-less-creepy version of Knockturn Alley. The windows were mainly shuttered or drawn close, and the ones that were open were gritty and nearly impossible to see through. The doors were hanging off of hinges, and the wood was raw and damp. Grey slabs of stone that formed the houses were lined with vines, moss, and dirt.

"We're in the southern part of London," Draco whispered softly into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "It's usually not a dangerous place for muggles, but wizards and witches created many problems for the Ministry of Magic over in this part. Muggles called it 'gang activity' and such… They started myths about the places south of Tower Bridge… It's rubbish, really. But ever since the Dark Lord rose again, he's been sending Death Eaters over to this part to make the Muggles paranoid."

A loud, slurring holler suddenly broke out from their right, and Hermione could hear a drunken man shout: "Aye, Rosier! Ya ova there? The Dark Lor' will haff yur 'ead if yur not!"*

Hermione flinched at how surprisingly loud and close the Death Eater was, and she tightened her grip on her wand.

"I'm no fool, Avery, unlike you, who drinks before rounds," a very sober Rosier answered, his rough voice scarily amused. "The Dark Lord will have _your _head if you find Harry Potter and let him escape because you're drunk. Do you have Zabini Junior with you?"

"O' course I do! I'z 'is firs' nigh' o' rounds!" the disturbing sound of retching ended the sentence, and a disgruntled hiss followed.

Hermione felt Malfoy stiffen behind her, and she quickly realized that 'Zabini Junior' was indeed Blaise Zabini, a fellow classmate who happened to be Malfoy's friend. She remembered him at Malfoy Manor, and he wasn't too bad, she thought.

The sound of heavy chainmail leather boots thudding against the pavement startled Hermione, and Draco hissed quietly into her ear, "Promise me that you'll do your best to be safe."

Hermione stared at him, clutching her wand by her side. "I promise. And you too?"

"I'll do my best," he answered, twirling his polished black wand in his long fingers. He lightly tiptoed to the other side of the road, briefly running across a stretch of pavement where the shadows of the buildings didn't provide a hiding place, and then reached the other side safely.

Hermione bit her lip, her heart beating loudly against her ribcage. She snuck along the side of the building, and she saw five figures standing in a loose circle. Rosier, a heavy-lidded man, stood next to Avery, a dark-haired man who was teetering dangerously on his two feet. A burly man with short, light blonde hair was towering over Avery, blue eyes seeming to be permanently glaring; she recognized him as Thorfinn Rowle, a wanted man from an old Daily Prophet newspaper. She saw an unidentifiable man who was smaller than the others, and then, finally, Blaise Zabini, his darker skin in contrast to the other Death Eaters.

She could easily see that Zabini was younger than the others, despite the hooded cloaks that they wore. His expression was unreadable–– it was a blank mask that she often saw Malfoy wear if he wasn't sneering or smirking.

Hermione eased her way down, barely making a noise, and closed her fist around a pebble. She aimed it at the opposite street, and then she threw it as hard as she could, the pebble landing with a noticeable _clack _against the stone.

The Death Eaters immediately jumped up, eyes alert, wands out.

"What the bloody hell would someone be doing here?" Rowle growled, his face hardening. His sharp features created eerie shadows on his face, and she could spy scars and scabs, not as terrifying as Mad-Eye Moody's, but still something to consider.

"I'll go check it out," Rosier muttered, hissing a '_lumos' _before disappearing down the road. The remaining four shifted uncomfortably, shining light over various hiding areas, going dangerously close to where Draco was hidden, but no one found him.

A roar of a fire and the crash of glass abruptly sounded from the left, and Hermione knew that Draco had done his diversion. She heard Rowle curse under his breath and order the unknown man to go with Zabini towards the fire while he and the drunken Avery stayed where they were.

_Perfect. _

Draco suddenly launched himself out of his hiding spot, shooting two Stunning spells at Rowle and Avery. Avery, as intoxicated as he was, put up no fight, crumpling to the ground. However, Rowle immediately deflected the Stunning Spell, sending a Dark spell after Malfoy.

Hermione felt their disguise melt off of their faces: she saw Draco's dark hair turn a vivid platinum blonde that Malfoys were known for… The Death Eaters must've cast a _Finite Incantatem _on the area.

She sprinted out and tried to disarm the large Death Eater, but he quickly put up a shield. She quickly checked to see if Malfoy was okay, and was relieved to find him unharmed, moving towards her, intent on blocking her from harm.

"Eh, and what is this? Malfoy Junior? The very one who had fled Malfoy Manor with… oh, and here's _the _Hermione Granger, mudblood extraordinaire!" Rowle laughed harshly. Draco's eyes darkened to pitch black at the word 'mudblood', but Rowle paid him no heed. "Losing your brains, you two, aren't you? That's the best you could come up with? I could sniff the word 'diversion' from a mile away. Now, what are you two looking for?"

A growl ripped through Draco's through as he lunged at Rowle, completely forgetting the use of his wand. He slashed at Rowle's head and skin, blood spraying all over the pavement. Hermione rushed forward… She needed to calm him, calm his Veela side…

"Draco, please!" Hermione hissed, grabbing his arm just as he was about to kick Rowle in the ribs. Draco let out another animalistic sound that sounded like a howl of frustration, but at her touch, his head suddenly snapped back to stare at her.

She watched as his obsidian eyes turned back to grey, and she immediately stunned Rowle before he could get back up. Rowle's nose was broken, and he was covered in his own blood; the floor was slick with it. She whispered an _'obliviate' _and aimed it at the Death Eater's head, before she moved on to Avery and did the same.

Hermione quickly plucked some hairs from Avery's and Rowle's heads, and when she turned to gaze at Malfoy, she saw that he was taking deep breaths and calmly washing the blood off of his hands with '_Aguamenti'_. His expression, however, was getting frustrated as he scrubbed at his hands, and he looked positively murderous after another couple of seconds––

Hermione gently took hold of his wrists and lightly scrubbed at some of the blood. "Malfoy, we must apparate now… take some of the Polyjuice Potion and go to Knockturn Alley, remember?" she said soothingly, as if speaking to a younger child. She saw sanity return to his silver eyes; she saw his mind slide back into place as he nodded, taking her arm and apparating them to Knockturn Alley.

O

It was as if déjà vu when they arrived just on the perimeters of Knockturn Alley. Hermione stumbled into Draco's arms, she mumbled her thanks, and she surveyed the cold and creepy surroundings. The soft _clink _of bottles in the bag brought her attention back to Malfoy, who was taking out two bottles of Polyjuice Potion. She offered the hairs to him, and he dropped the strands into the two bottles.

"Bottoms up," Draco mused, dunking the potion into his mouth in one gulp. Hermione copied him, taking two mouthfuls before grimacing; it tasted revolting.

She felt her body change and become more masculine, growing several inches. It hurt, but she was no stranger to pain, and she didn't cry out. Hermione quickly unraveled a spare robe that they had brought in the bag and slipped her arms through them, sliding it on before finding a cloak and clasping it on the top.

"It's strange, you know," Draco said conversationally. Hermione whipped around, thinking that it was Avery, but then calmed when she realized that it was actually Draco, who was picking at the robes that he was wearing.

"What's strange?"

"You're taller than me."

Hermione blinked, and an expression that looked strange on Rowle's face appeared as she drew herself to her–– or Rowle's–– full height. She stood half a head taller than Draco, and a smirk worthy of the said Malfoy appeared on her face.

"Well, let's go, shall we?" Hermione/Rowle asked, sweeping her arm grandly towards the entrance of the alley. "You first."

Malfoy strolled into the dark Knockturn Alley with familiarity–– he had been there many a time with his father when he was young, and he wasn't afraid of the floating hands, popping eyes, or unknown slime. Some stores were rotting away, as if dying from the inside, and the windows looked as if they hadn't been cleaned for a hundred years.

He strolled towards the back corner of the street, passing some old hags who poked at his clothes and tugged at the sleeves, some cackling and other muttering dark curses under their breaths. He glanced back to see Hermione, who, in Rowle's body, looked uncomfortable yet terrifying at the same time.

"We're here, Rowle," he announced loudly. He pushed on a wooden door in which the green paint was chipping away, and it opened to reveal a wooden staircase. Draco climbed the steep staircase, the creaks making it sound as if the staircase was about the give way. The wooden walls curled inwards, making Hermione feel claustrophobic.

Finally, they reached the top, and a small room filled with different perfumes and magical devices greeted them. Hermione was reminded strongly of Professor Trelawney's classroom–– the perfume was overpowering, and the roof was exceedingly low.

"Ah, young master Malfoy, you've come to seek my help once again," the husky voice of a woman sounded from the corner of the room. "I can see through that disguise… yes, I can feel your heart beat just as it had years before… but you are older now, are you not?"

The woman was around thirty years of age, and her skin was tan and dark. Her big, electric blue eyes had a magical aura pulsing from it, and her curly black hair fell in messy ringlets. Countless necklaces and beaded bracelets and bronze rings were around her neck, wrists, and fingers, and she sat on a blood-red pillow.

"Deidre," Draco greeted. "We meet again."

"Ah, yes… Miss Deidre waited for younger Master Malfoy to return to visit, as he promised… and what is this? A friend?"

"This," Draco nodded at Hermione, who timidly stepped in front of the radical woman, "is Hermione."

**Author's Notes: **… And that's Chapter Nine! I hope you guys liked it… maybe it makes up for the time I've been away? Hopefully? Anyhow, please review!

*Avery's translation (if you couldn't understand): "Hey, Rosier! You over there? The Dark Lord will have your head if you're not!" "Of course I do! It's his first night of rounds!"


	10. Blushes

**Author's Notes: **Hello, lovely readers! Here I am, actually updating (: Thank you all who reviewed, as usual, though there has been a steadily decreasing number of reviews and I'd like to, once again, urge everyone to comment. A recap of last chapter: Draco and Hermione escaped to Diagon Alley under Polyjuice, and met this mysterious woman named Deidre. Do review, people!

_Reviewers: Loslote, frostykitten, birningice, Draco's Veela Mate, LadyFateContemplatingDisaster, Cecelia Ward, RachelRaeDarkness, jtrem, Panther Eyes, amrawo, miss quirky bookworm, Dark Warrior, HPmadness12, YukiAndZero (3), BloodyLilly, sNAPpyDraGon, CursedPrincess56 (9), letswriteafairytale, HerGoldenWings_

O

Hermione was very much intimidated by this strange woman that stared at her with that penetrating gaze that pulsed with an eccentric magical aura. Miss Deidre's electric blue eyes burned so brightly that it almost hurt to look at them, and, as the older woman shifted, the bangles and beads around her neck and arms clanged together loudly.

The woman, Deidre, reached forward on her red pillow, closed her cerulean eyes slowly, and began murmuring something under her breath. She lifted a thin, bony hand and drew an invisible line in the air with a long finger, and Hermione realized that Deidre was chanting in Latin.

The thick silence and tension of the room hung in the air as Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She met Draco's eye and gave him a questioning look, but he shook his head slightly to keep her silent. Hermione nodded back at him to show that she understood, and shifted her weight to another foot.

"Miss Hermione Granger," Deidre whispered, a misty sheen covering her eyes, "Daughter of Dan and Jean Granger. Muggleborn. Uncannily bright and clever: The Sorting Hat had wanted to sort you into Ravenclaw for your thirst for knowledge… But I can feel the ambition inside of you, and quite sly you are, lying to Umbridge like that in your fifth year… Perhaps Slytherin would've befitted you, the cunning lot that they are… And Hufflepuff, the underestimated House, but the House with such unwavering loyalty that would match your personality… But Gryffindor wins overall, does it not? You would throw away your books, your ambitions, and even your loyalties just to save the world, such a chivalrous girl that you are."

Hermione stared at the woman in shock, jaw dropping–– this had been exactly what the Sorting Hat had whispered into her mind: hissing about how she would become famous and great in Slytherin, murmuring about what great friends she would find in Hufflepuff, describing the amount of achievements that she would gain in Ravenclaw, and, finally, stating her fate in Gryffindor, which ruled over all the other Houses.

"I see," Deidre took a deep breath, staring at Hermione with that pinning gaze. "You dropped out of Divination in your third year, but I understand why. You are not fit for it… your mind is filled with ink and paper, not looking beyond at what can change."

"Are you a Seer?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes when she heard the word 'Divination'. Her dislike for the subject never lessened, and she hoped that this powerful woman, Deidre, wasn't some old fraud like Trelawney.

Of course, Professor Trelawney was the one who made the prophecy about Harry and Lord Voldemort in the first place.

"Yes, Miss Hermione, I am a Seer of ancient lineage. I can feel your scorn for the subject, and I understand… Sybill Trelawney is not the most accurate of us Seers. She is too… aggressive with the Sight, too persistent, and can see nothing but the dramatic antics of those that she hopes to see." Deidre glanced at Draco, and then at Hermione. "I can sense a strong magical bond upon you two… I can feel it pulsing in the air… you have come into your Veela heritage, Draco? And Miss Hermione is your mate?"

Draco nodded tightly, wishing that Hermione was already bonded to him, wanting to see her trust him and smile at him and––

"Miss Hermione, if I could have a word with you? It will be a great change to your life, after all, after being a Veela's mate, and I'd like to discuss that with you," Deidre said softly, watching as the Gryffindor hesitantly nodded. Deidre smiled that strange smile, and lightly took Hermione's arm and pulled her towards the back room, Draco's suspicious stare lingering after them.

Hermione felt completely insecure as she stood in the wooden, dying room all alone with the Seer, suddenly realizing how Draco's presence had soothed her before. The eccentric woman was commanding and powerful, not nearly as misty and dreamy as Luna was, sweet Luna, who wouldn't hurt a fly…

The room was run down and unpolished–– the paint on the walls was chipping, revealing raw wood, and the table was teetering dangerously to one side. Dim lighting created eerie shadows, and she shivered slightly, pulling the overly large robes around her body tighter.

"Miss Granger," Deidre whispered in her ear, glancing back at Draco, who was staring out the window blankly, "I must make this quick, before he suspects. I know that young Master Malfoy can be very persuasive and charismatic if he wants to be. I urge you to be careful… Heed my warning… He is very loyal to his friends and family, despite being a Veela, and you never know if, after he binds you to him, he will drag you back to the Dark Side. He knows if that if he gains your love, you will follow him…"

"What?" Hermione recoiled, but before she received an answer, Deidre had already dragged her back into the main room, her grip surprisingly strong. There was something wrong with the way the woman was behaving… Deidre was too sharp with her movements, too jerky, too sudden… but then again, she barely knew Deidre, and she didn't know if she always acted that way…

"Now, young ones… Why do you call upon Deidre, the aging widow of Knockturn Alley? The last time I saw of you, young Master Draco, was seven years ago, when you were young and innocent and naïve."

Draco clenched and unclenched his jaw, and Hermione saw that the Polyjuice Potion had lost its affects and his hair was the same white blonde that glowed brightly as it reflected the eerie candlelight. He gave her a meaningful stare that said that he would ask her about the ten-second conversation that she and Deidre had later.

"Miss Deidre, I trust you to keep this rendezvous a secret?" he asked, finally turning to fix his mercurial eyes on the older woman.

"You must not trust those who can't be trusted, but you should trust those who don't want to be. I believe that your very own father, Lord Lucius Malfoy, taught you to never trust anyways that says 'trust me'?" the mysterious woman inhaled, as if tasting the atmosphere around her. "Do not flinch at your father's name, Draco. He cares very much for you, he does."

"He cares about the Malfoy name in the Dark Lord's eyes, not for me."

Deidre shook her head slowly, lightly slicing her finger across the top of a flame, the heat not affecting her tanned skin. "You are blinded by hatred and fear. Do not fear the one with the same blood as you, he wishes you no harm, though his will is smothered by his fear of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Hermione hadn't ever seen so much emotion in Draco's eyes before, and she admitted that she felt… pity? Sympathy? Whatever the emotion, she felt something inside of her reach out for him. Was it that vulnerable hurt in his eyes? She always cared for those who were injured and harmed, emotionally or physically. But Deidre's words came back to her… _'He can be persuasive and charismatic if he wants to be…'_ what if his emotions was just an act?

"I didn't come here to discuss my father," Draco cut in harshly. "I'm here to ask you about the Thousand Array."

Hermione knew that his father was a sore subject for him, but what if it was because Draco was still loyal to his father and he didn't want Hermione to see it?

Deidre smiled softly, highlighting a scar on her cheek that Hermione hadn't noticed before. "Your father will be important, I do think. As will your mother. Lady Narcissa's love for you is unyielding and irrevocable."

"The Thousand Array, Deidre," Draco hissed, a warning note in his dangerous tone. His skin seemed paler than before, and the angles of his sharp features were more prominent in the dim light and in his anger.

Deidre gazed at him for a moment, holding his glare, before taking a deep breath.

"The Dark Lord seeks it, does he not?" Deidre said dreamily, not really speaking to the other two occupants in the room anymore; she was allowing her soul to drift, to find the answers of the universe. "The Thousand Array, such a magical artifact of power… _nearly _making the person in possession of it immortal. Seek the land where dragons fly and ancient temples stand, tall and proud. Find the land of elemental magic, of peace and meditation, and of _chi, _energy. There, you will find the Thousand Array, and what you do with the stone remains in your minds and hands."

Hermione ran through a list of places in her mind. Dragons? Romania. Charlie Weasley, Ron's brother, had often told tales about the largest Dragon Sanctuary in the world. Temples? Many places had temples. Elemental magic? Asia. Asia was the origin of elemental magic, she had read about the strange abilities to control the four elements–– earth, wind, water, and fire. Peace and meditation… _chi, _energy…

China! Of course! China was famed for the fire breathing dragons and temples that covered their country. It all fit in!

"China!" Hermione looked at Deidre for confirmation. "The Thousand Array is in _China?" _

Deidre smiled at them mysteriously, and Hermione couldn't push away the feeling that something was incredibly off. She wasn't the one to rely on her gut feeling; it was always Harry, who depended on dream, and Ron, who acted on intuition…

_Harry and Ron! _

Where were they? She had to find them before they tried to find _her _at Malfoy Manor.

"Miss Deidre… please, tell me, where are Harry and Ron? Are they all right?" Hermione pleaded. "I can't just leave them. I need to know where they are before trying to find the Thousand Array." She didn't see Draco's eyes darken at the mention of the other two males, too intent on finding out if her friend were okay.

Deidre ran her thin fingers through her beaded and braided dark hair. Her features were all bones and angles, and said, "I do not wish to waver your strength. I will not answer your question, Miss Hermione Jean Granger."

"But––"

Heavy thumping of boots against the narrow wooden stairs cut off Hermione's protest, and Draco immediately grabbed her arm, eyes wide and alert.

"The Stunning Spells on Avery and Rowle probably wore off, we've got to go, Granger," Draco hissed, rummaging through the fabric sack to find the last two bottles of Polyjuice Potion so that they could sneak out. "They knew that we had to attack them to get their hair for Polyjuice Potions, and figured that we had to go somewhere public because we had to change our identities. Where else would we go but Diagon or Knockturn Alley?" He laughed harshly, holding out two vials of the disgusting potion.

"No need for that potion, young Master Draco," Deidre murmured. "I can lift the Anti Apparition wards for your escape." She lifted a hand, and, without a wand, they felt something lift from the structure. "Go."

Draco nodded his thanks and took Hermione's arm, desperately trying to think of a place to apparate to.

Hermione shook her head, and placed her other hand on his arm. "Allow me," she whispered, and, after imagining a woodland area where the trees acted as a canopy over the grass, they apparated with a sharp crack, barely hearing the shout of alarm from the Death Eaters that just barged in through the splintered wooden door.

O

"Where the bloody hell are we, Granger?" was the first thing that she heard once she was released from the tight, suction tube of Apparition. Hermione leaned against him for a moment, regaining her balance, before stumbling forward.

"The Forest of Dean," Hermione answered, ignoring his language. She looked around the place, closing her eyes, reminiscing in her memories. "I brought Harry here once, when we were on the run. This was also the place that Ron found us after he left," she opened her cider-colored eyes and lightly trailed her fingers across the rough and damp bark of the trees.

Draco immediately tensed at the mention of her precious Harry and Ron, and clenched his fists, trying to restrain himself from punching a tree.

"This is also the place that my parents and I used to go camping in the summer," Hermione whispered. She didn't know why she was telling him this, it was too personal to be telling her once enemy, and she should be closing herself off to him, especially after Deidre's warning, but she just felt like it would be significant.

When had Draco become a 'once enemy'?

"Where are your parents?" Draco asked, his expression softening at her wavering voice. He walked towards her slowly, not wanting to scare her, but trying to comfort her.

"They're dead," she said flatly. Her face was devoid of emotion, but her eyes burned with sorrow..

"I'm sorry," Draco answered automatically, reaching forward to touch her arm. Hermione instinctively jerked her arm away at his touch, but immediately regretted it when she saw the hurt expression on his face.

"I… I apologize," Hermione whispered. "I'm not ready… I'm not used to the idea of you being a Veela yet. Don't be sorry for me and my parents… it wasn't your fault."

Draco nodded slowly, mechanically withdrawing his arm and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He manipulated his facial features to make him seem expressionless. "We should get back to Silver Glades and get ready for China. We've got to find the Thousand Array before the Dark Lord."

"Malfoy, please. I have to find Harry and Ron before we disappear from the UK… you heard Miss Deidre. She said that… she said that she couldn't tell me because it would weaken me. That means that Harry and Ron… that they…" Hermione gulped, taking a deep breath. "That means that they are _caught. _Please, Draco…"

There it was again: first name usage. Draco took a shuddering breath, his different emotions battling each other. One part of him strived to make Hermione happy; that part would do anything to please her, but another part was howling in jealousy and anger, loathing saint _Potter _and _Weasley _so much more than before, if possible.

"We should get back," Draco hissed through clenched teeth. "Then, we'll discuss this." Without further ado, they apparated once more, this time to the 'cottage' (it was a cottage to a Malfoy, but to any other person, it was the size of a rather large house), one of them hopeful, while the other fought his contradicting emotions.

O

They arrived a couple hundred meters away from the cottage, and Hermione felt at peace as she passed the wards. There was something in the atmosphere around the cottage that was calming and peaceful… she was distinctly reminded of her conversation with Harry in the Forest of Dean…

'_Maybe we should stay here, Harry… Grow old." _Forget about their destinies. Forget about the war. Forget about everything…

"What did Deidre say to you about Veelas?" Draco asked, finally breaking the silence. He reached forward and unlocked the door, holding it open for her to go into the cottage first, ever the gentleman. Hermione stepped inside, and whispered '_lumos' _to light the place. It was getting dark out, little stars littered the dark blanket of night, and they slipped into the house stealthily, just shadows, until Draco lit the candles.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned around to see Draco leaning against the doorframe, arching an elegant eyebrow at her. She bit her lip, trying to think of an answer… she couldn't tell him the truth…

"She was just telling me about how… how Veelas are incredibly loyal and how I shouldn't… how I shouldn't abuse that loyalty," Hermione blurted out, trying to gauge if he believed her or not.

She was never a great liar.

Draco stared at her, and Hermione instantly knew that he didn't believe a word that she had just said, and she continuously gnawed at her lip.

"You should stop doing that," Draco said quietly, focusing his eyes on her lips. "It always gives away your emotions, and it attracts attention."

Hermione immediately stopped biting her lip, backing away slightly, a blush gracing her cheeks. "Er… I'm going to go to bed now. It's… It's late. I… I'll see you tomorrow. Good night," she whirled around and dashed up the stairs.

"Hermione?" Draco's tired voice stopped her, and she turned around. She had expected triumph at making her blush, maybe even amusement, but not a weary tone. "I… I can't sleep normally without your presence. If you could just lie next to me…?"

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," Hermione said, creeping up the stairs, her blush darkening into a deeper red. "I'm not comfortable enough to… I'm sorry," she stuttered, and darted into her bedroom, locking the door shut.

Draco sighed and prepared himself for another sleep-deprived night.

O

_Hermione looked around and recognized Malfoy Manor, the cold beauty feeling vacant. She turned around and found a stone door, a curious thing to have inside any other home, and pushed it aside to reveal a set of stone steps._

_Impulsively, she walked down those stone steps, the light fading behind her and the darkness enveloping her. She heard something from deep within whatever place the stairs were leading her, and Hermione quickly ran towards the noise._

_What she found made her gasp._

_There was Harry, sitting against the cold grey stone, his arms shackled to the dark wall. His face and chest was bloodied, and his glasses, broken and cracked and forgotten, lay several feet from where he sat. On the opposite wall sat Ron, his hair covered in mud and his arms scarred. His wrists, like Harry's, were also chained to the wall, and he was hunched over in pain._

"_Harry? Ron? Oh, Harry! Are you all right? Ron?" Hermione's voice echoed eerily in the dungeons, but the two didn't hear her. When she ran up to Harry and shook his shoulders, her touch ran straight through his body, and he felt nothing._

"_Harry? Harry?" Hermione turned around, tears beginning to pour down her cheeks, and tried to get Ron's attention. He did not react. "Ron? Harry! Ron!" Their names echoed around the hollow and cold room over and over again, but they could not hear her, could not feel her pain or her cold hands, and could not see the tears rolling down her cheeks._

_Hermione heard footsteps pattering towards her from her right, and lifted her head to see the pale, glowing figure of Draco Malfoy, who stared at her. Something was off. Something was wrong._

_He stared at her coldly, his grey eyes like ice chips. _

"_Draco, please! Help me! Harry and Ron… they…"_

_But he just cut her off, ignoring her, not reacting to her, just as Harry and Ron had. "Hello, Saint Potter. Not so saint-like now, are you? Sitting here, chained to the wall, bloodied? And you, Weasel? Finally found your place, have you? You are worth nothing but the mud underneath my feet," Draco sneered. He flicked his wand, and Ron screamed in pain, eyes bulging, with a new collection of scars forming around his neck._

"_Do you know how I found you two? It was your mudblood Granger. She was only too easy to gain the love of… 'My father treats me horribly, Hermione… You're the only one who has ever understood me, Hermione… I love you, Hermione…' it was only too easy to gain her love, her trust, and every piece of information in that mind of hers." Draco suddenly whipped around, his robes billowing around him, and looked straight at Hermione. _

"_Hello, princess," he smirked, giving her a sadistic smile._

_She screamed. _

_She screamed because his eyes were glowing red._

**Author's Notes: **Just in case you didn't know, that last part in italics was Hermione's dream (: Or rather, nightmare. I hope you liked this chappie, I'm not quite satisfied with it, it feels too awkward… but, anyhow, do express your opinion in a review!


	11. Traitors

**Author's Notes: **Hola, fair readers! Thank you all so much for the reviews… they create rays of sunshine in my day! I love you all! A lot of you are saying that Hermione shouldn't trust Deidre while many of you guys said that Hermione should take the warning. The answer? Well, I'm not giving it away! My goal is to finish this story by the end of summer… you think I can do it if I update more often? _Review, sil vous plait_?

_Reviewers: A Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes, Draco's Veela Mate, MarchesaLace, AreYouSirius-questionmark, Panther Eyes, queendd19, HPequalslove (4), OBLuvr13, KoretheMaiden, miss quirky bookworm, Loslote, Ijoan, amber, I'm lovin it, edwardsoneandonlylove, sammyyyconleyyy, Jade M. Darcy-Malfoy, frostykitten, Dark Warrior, Luna Rose Lily, CC, jtrem, HPmadness12, RachelRaeDarkness, weirdgiraffe (2), Aussie Rose, KathrineZabini, MissRachel14, sleepdeprived91, SharpestSatire (4), scribblybits, Petite Love, Slytherin Princess 1313, lupuslady, iamthecookiemonster _

O

Draco turned over, his eyes dry and sluggish. His mouth opened and he yawned once again, but he couldn't sleep.

The bed he slept in was top quality, of course. As a Malfoy, even the smallest cottage that they owned would be furnished with the Wizarding World's top quality furniture and decorations, no matter what. But the bed wasn't involved in his sleep-deprived state.

He just couldn't sleep without his mate by his side.

Draco had known that Hermione was going to say 'no' to lying by his side, but he really needed to sleep sometime in the next couple of weeks… Bruising eye bags were etched beneath his eyes, and his strength was rapidly deteriorating.

He turned over again, taking a deep breath. What had Deidre said to Hermione? He didn't know Deidre too well, but she had rescued him from the old hags in Knockturn Alley once when he was separated from his father. He had been terrified at first, but then, childish curiosity had taken over and he remembered how he had tugged on Deidre's beaded hair.

Deidre was a strange woman. She was distant and eccentric, but she never struck him as a cruel woman. What had she said to Hermione? Why did Hermione lie to him?

A scream suddenly pierced through his thinking process, and he immediately leapt up from bed, eyes wide and alert. Without hesitation, he plowed through his bedroom door. He ripped the door off of its hinges and blindly sprinted down the dark hallway towards Hermione's bedroom–– the source of the scream.

She was wrapped in fetal position: her skin was pale and ghost-like. Her shoulders were trembling, and tears were coursing down her alabaster cheeks. In the bare light, she glowed mysteriously, but it wasn't the type of glow that gave you the impression that she was a goddess.

"Granger? Granger? Goddamnit, _Hermione?" _Draco rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her protectively. "What happened, love? Hermione, please, talk to me!"

Hermione screamed again, pushing his arms away and kicking like a child in a tantrum.

"Hermione––"

"_Get away from me, you stupid bastard! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" _Hermione was delirious as she scratched as his skin, fighting tooth and nail to get out of the cage of his arms.

"Hermione––"

"_GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU MURDERER! YOU'RE JUST LIKE HIM; YOU'RE JUST LIKE VOL––" _Hermione was cut off by Draco's hands, which muffled her screams and prevented her from shouting the tabooed name. She bit at his hand furiously, drawing blood, but he did not remove his hand, only wincing as her sharp teeth split his skin. Her bright amber eyes were crazed, and there was a determined sheen over them. She was determined to get away from _him_.

"Granger, _please _listen to me! It's me, Draco Malfoy, and I'm not going to hurt you… I––"

Hermione screamed incomprehensively. Somewhere in her mind, she must've realized that she was a witch, and she immediately tried to summon her wand. Draco's eyes widened in panic at that movement: He knew that he was no match against her magic, especially because he could not hurt her.

Draco hugged her tightly, whispering words that were meant to soothe her. "Please, Hermione… I don't want to hurt you, and I _won't _hurt you. Please, please… calm… Sh… You're okay. You're safe."

There was a moment of tension, a moment of silence. The girl suddenly fell limp in his arms, her head falling on his chest and her face burying into his shoulder, soaking it with tears. She sobbed into his bare chest, and her arms went around his muscled stomach, wrapping around him. Her wand slipped from her fingers, landing on the wooden ground with a soft clatter.

Draco's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at Hermione, who was embracing him. His Veela side purred in his head, and he wrapped his strong arms around her, pressing her towards him and allowing her to burrow deep into his chest.

Hermione began to calm, and the trembles in her small body stopped. A loud silence followed, and Draco held the Gryffindor in his arms, leaning back and taking a sigh of relief.

"Granger? You all right?" he asked, wondering if this was one of her pain attacks that were the result of Lucius' spell.

But she was already asleep.

O

Hermione woke up to a warm cocoon of blankets surrounding her body. Her curly hair was splayed wildly across the pillows, and she was using her comforter to cushion her head. Her arms were wrapped around the blankets, and there was a peaceful serenity in her body, despite the pounding rain outside her window.

She yawned as she pushed herself up, her lids drowsy. Her cheeks were sticky with dried tears––

Hermione froze, her hand tentatively patting her cheeks. _Harry and Ron couldn't see her… Draco didn't help… His eyes were _blood red… She nearly screamed again.

The Gryffindor took several deep breaths to calm the suddenly pounding beat of her heart. _It was just a dream… just a dream… _

Her hand drifted towards the blanket that Draco must've wrapped around her. She remembered the feel of his arms wrapped around her… but how could she feel so safe with him if he could not be trusted?

Hermione shook her head and reached down to pick up her wand, which was on the floor, and got ready for the day–– there was much to discuss.

O

After taking a quick shower and slipping on a pair of Muggle jeans and a shirt, she descended the stairs and looked around the empty kitchen. The kitchen was pristine and in perfect order–– there were no dirty bowls in the sink, no half-finished breakfast on the table, no stain on the cabinets, and no opened jar on the counter. It was as empty as it was lifeless.

Hermione swallowed, wondering where in the house Malfoy could possibly be. She tiptoed towards a door on the right, pushing it open a sliver. Peeking around the door, she found a study room–– a modest but expensive mahogany desk was placed in the center, and a large leather chair stood behind it. It was empty of Malfoy.

She turned around and went the other way, walking down a dark hallway and peeking into several different rooms–– the living room was deserted, the billiard room was empty, and the next rows of rooms were just as Malfoy-less as the first couple.

When Hermione got to the last room, she found herself praying that he was there. She pushed open the double doors, a gust of wind whipping her hair off her shoulders. A large sunroom greeted her.

The sunroom was built completely of glass, minus the floors. The rain hammered loudly on the glass ceiling, and, through the ceiling, Hermione saw the stormy grey skies. The clouds rolled, and she flinched when a flash of lightning tore through the darkening horizon. An accompanying boom of thunder sent vibrations through the ground, and Hermione cringed.

She hated thunder and lightning.

She _feared _thunder and lightning.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called, her abnormally higher voice echoing in the spacey room.

No answer.

Hermione clutched her wand at her side, gulping slightly. Where in the world could he be? Would he be… oh, Merlin… could he be running to the Dark side right now?

_Remember, Hermione, he swore on his word as a Malfoy. He's too proud to break that promise. _

_But his word as a Malfoy isn't an Unbreakable Vow! _Her mind argued back. Deidre had said that Hermione should be careful…

Hermione tensed as another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky.

Perhaps she should talk with Deidre? Maybe she should go to the Seer and ask for a clearer explanation?

She contemplated apparating to Knockturn Alley. It would be dangerous. She didn't know if Deidre would still be there or if Death Eaters had captured the older woman. The Death Eaters had, after all, barged into Deidre's store by force…

But how had the Death Eaters known that Hermione and Draco were there? Hermione remembered that Malfoy had quickly said that Rowle and Avery had awoken from the Stunning Spells, but she had obliviated them as well. They shouldn't even remember that they had ever met Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

Did Malfoy call them? Did he use his Dark Mark and summon the Death Eaters there to harm her? If so, why did he take her arm and apparate her back to Silver Glades? Did he decide that he needed to dig out information from her?

Hermione clutched her head, desperately wanting answers. A person who swears on his name to keep a promise would certainly break that promise if under the threatening wand of Lord Voldemort…

_Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. _

The grandfather clock chimed eight times; it reminded Hermione that time was scarce. If Draco was a traitor to her, then he could bring the Death Eaters here at any moment.

Somehow, it was hard for her to think badly of him. She must've believed that he was _her _Veela… that he was eventually going to prove himself trustworthy. It was hard to think otherwise, but she could not rule out the possibility.

She didn't know where Draco was, and she never had been as alone as she was now. It was a strange feeling: she was dependent on only herself.

She'd have to take a chance. She wasn't safe at Silver Glades, and there was nowhere else for her to go. Harry and Ron were in trouble… Deidre had hinted at it. It was time to do something recklessly Gryffindor and stop thinking it through.

Hermione aimed her wand at her face, morphing her features, before summoning a cloak and closing her eyes as she apparated to the entrance of Knockturn Alley.

O

After getting used to the dizzying consequences from the transportation via use of apparating, Hermione quickly dropped her head and flicked on the hood of her cloak. The rain soaked her clothes, but she couldn't be bothered with it. Walking quickly and stealthily, she made her way through the deserted alleyway, her feet occasionally slipping on the wet and grimy cobblestones. She recalled following Draco towards the more discreet corner of Knockturn Alley where Deidre's store was nestled between two abandoned buildings.

There was something wrong with the building. It looked… different. She smelt no perfume in the air, and there was no magical aura about the place. The building, chipped green paint and all, looked completely dead and withered. It seemed uninhabited.

Uninhabited.

She felt a _Finite Incantatem _wash over her features, her disguise melting away. She tried to run, panicking, but she was deftly tripped by a figure in black. Thinking quickly, she _evanesco'_ed her wand: she couldn't risk losing it. She'd let her captor think that she was wandless.

Hermione began backing up, eyes wide. She prepared herself to apparate away, to leave and arrive in a random field to think and go through her options, but she was too late.

All she heard was a low chuckle, a crunch of boots, and a snap of Apparition once a pair of thick and rough hands made its way around her wrists.

O _Harry and Ron _O

"Ron?"

"Yeah, Harry?" the voice was tired and weary, sounding ages older than before.

There was a rustle as Harry Potter sat up, slipping on his glasses. His emerald green eyes weren't as vibrant as they were before, but there was a special glimmer in those eyes just that day.

"I say we rescue Hermione tonight."

There was a pause before the redheaded 'sidekick' answered, his voice strong. "I agree."

"We don't have Hermione's quick thinking to get us into Malfoy Manor."

"Yep."

"We didn't plan as much as much as Hermione would've planned."

"Yep."

"Heck, we didn't plan at all. The only plan we've got is to just barge in and find Hermione and then barge out."

"Yep."

Silence.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You scared?"

There was a pause once again. A loud sigh ended the pause, and Harry Potter stood up, pacing back and forth. He exited the tent, Ron following him, into the pouring rain. They had made a dome of protection around their tent and some meters around it, and the rain did not penetrate the area, making it remain dry. However, to any outsider, the area was just as soaked as the trees and dirt around it.

"Yes, I'm scared. I'm scared of the bloody Death Eaters that will be eagerly waiting to call Lord Vol––"

"Harry!"

"Sorry, _You-Know-Who_, once they find out that Harry Potter will be running straight into Malfoy Manor with no plan. I'm afraid of losing _you_ to the Death Eaters as well… what would I do without anyone? How can I find the bloody Horcruxes without you or Hermione? And you know what else I'm afraid of? I'm damned afraid that I'll enter Malfoy Manor and I'll find nothing but Hermione's dead, mutilated body!"

"Harry…" Ron protested weakly.

But Harry wasn't finished. A flood of fears were pouring out of his mouth, and he ranted on about his life, his parents, the damned prophecy, and, finally, he reached the point that he was most afraid of.

"Ron, I'm so scared of the Great Battle. It's brewing on the horizon, I just know that it is, and we're going to lose so many people to the war. And, after losing so many great family and friends and classmates… I'm going to have to face off with You-Know-Who. Everyone's going to depend on me. How the fuck am I going to defeat a Dark wizard who has been training to become immortal for decades? _How_?" When Ron didn't answer, Harry lifted his face up to the dark sky and demanded an answer. "_HOW?" _

Ron swallowed, taking a deep breath. "We'll do our best, Harry. Remember what Dumbledore said? He said that you have love on your side, Harry, and that love will ultimately win. Dumbledore may have been an old coot, but he wasn't spewing lies…"

"Lies? _Lies? _He was the best friend of _Grindelwald _and he didn't tell me. He told me _nothing. _He didn't give me a bloody warning! All he left was a search for Horcruxes, and then, he went off and let _bloody Snape _kill him! He let _Draco Malfoy _disarm him! For the Greater Good, _pah!_"

"Harry, please," Ron pleaded. His heart ached for Hermione's familiar soothing tone… _she _could calm Harry in this moment. "We've got to focus on rescuing Hermione tonight. She'll help."

Harry buried his head in his hands, raking his fingers through his tussled black hair. "I know that she'll help. She'll help… if she's still alive."

"She's strong, Harry. I… she can't… she wouldn't… Hermione wouldn't leave us like that. She'll do whatever she can to make it to the end."

O

The darkness caused by the stone made it nearly look as if it were nighttime. Hermione could scarcely make out the outline of the iron-wrought gates of Malfoy Manor as the Death Eater pushed her forward roughly.

Bellatrix was standing on the other side of the sleek and elegant gate, black eyes wide and lips curling upwards into a triumphant grin. She cackled as she waved her wand, the gate dissolving and permitting entrance.

"Ah, Rowle, so you've caught the little bird of Gryffindor!" Bellatrix sneered, directing the sentence more towards Hermione than Rowle.

Rowle laughed boisterously, and Hermione instinctively flinched away from his disgusting breath.

"You reckon the Dark Lord will let me have my way with this one? I need my sweet revenge."

Bellatrix's eyes glittered like a predator. "The Dark Lord rewards those who are loyal. I'm sure he'll give you his seconds." She flashed a row of teeth at Hermione, who recoiled in horror. Bellatrix led them through the magnificent garden, stunning a white peacock mistaken for a prisoner on the way. She flicked her wand and the doors opened.

"Cissy! Lucius! Look what I have here!" the crazy Death Eater called. In the light, Hermione saw Bellatrix's wild hair that was much more untamable than her own. Her blood red lips were curled into a dangerous smirk, and her high cheekbones and pale skin gave an impression that she was all skin and bones.

A pale couple made their way down the spiral staircase, and Hermione recognized Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. She saw Narcissa's cold and dispassionate blue eyes widen in fear and recognition when those eyes landed on her.

Hermione studied the Malfoy couple carefully, watching as Narcissa shifted forward to help her and Lucius stop her by edging in front of his wife. His grey eyes were narrowed and otherwise unable to be read, and he quickly turned to face Bellatrix.

"Ah… Bella. It's the mudblood," he murmured emotionlessly. He strolled forward, assessing her as if she were a horse on show.

Narcissa tried to get to Hermione once again, but was stopped, again, by Lucius. He held out an arm to stop her, muttering some crap about how he didn't want her robes to be soiled by the mudblood's dirty blood, and she stayed back.

"Bella, do not be so hasty to call upon the Dark Lord. Allow me to… speak with the mudblood. I must know what bewitchment this dirty muggle has dared to put on my son."

"Oh, how _stubborn _you are, _Lucius! _Your son is nothing but a filthy traitor, you saw him carrying that _thing _yourself! Your son has found a mate in nothing but a filthy mudblood!" Bellatrix's voice rose higher, and she brandished her wand menacingly. "He is a disgrace to this family."

Mr. Malfoy clenched his fists, but Narcissa quickly intervened, her aged but beautiful face pleading. "Bella… let us speak to the girl. I do not wish for my son to die…"

"Your 'son' is a traitor; he _deserves _to die! Can't you see, Cissy? Can't you see how the Dark Lord will be so proud of you for sacrificing your son for the cause?"

"Bella, give me one chance. As my sister, give me one chance." Narcissa was already walking towards Hermione, her light blue robes swishing across the floor.

Bellatrix growled, frustrated, before sending Hermione a death glare and stalking off, pulling Rowle along with her, hissing, "You will get your punishment, little mudblood! Don't you worry!"

The door closed behind them with a sound of finality, and Narcissa quaked as she lightly placed her slender and cold hands on either sides of Hermione's face.

"Where is my son, dear girl?" Narcissa whispered. Her angelic face was streaked with fresh tears, and her eyes were wide with fear. "Why do you come here alone?"

Hermione tried to back away from Narcissa, her eyes flickering to the door. She knew that she could easily snap her fingers and her wand would appear, and she would surely be able to overpower Narcissa, though she wasn't sure about the elder Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy was skilled with the wand, and she knew it.

Furthermore, there were probably Death Eaters waiting outside the door.

"My son, Hermione, _please," _Narcissa whimpered, brushing her fingers through Hermione's knotted and damp hair.

Hermione glanced at Lucius Malfoy, who was standing, stoic and statue-like, on the side, grey eyes staring at her blankly.

"He's… I don't know. I woke up and he was gone. I…" Hermione stammered through the truth, eyes flickering back to the door. Narcissa was probably too busy absorbing the new information…

She snapped her fingers and her wand appeared immediately. Hermione whirled around, ready to stun Narcissa, but found Mr. Malfoy standing in the way, pushing Narcissa to the back. Lucius was aiming his wand threateningly at her, eyes cold.

"No, Lucius!" Narcissa hissed, and Hermione knew that Lady Malfoy's Veela senses were going to kick in if she attacked Lucius. She didn't know if she could defeat a Veela…

The door suddenly cracked open, and Hermione whirled around, eyes wide, prepared for a flood of Death Eaters that were ready to kill her.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron suddenly burst through, wands at the ready, relief yet terror in their faces. They linked arms, positioning themselves so that they had each other's backs.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Ron whispered to her, an apology laced in his voice. After all, it was his fault that Hermione was captured in the first place.

"I'm fine, I'll explain everything later," Hermione hissed back, flashing him a reassuring smile. Gods, how she had missed her two boys! The sight of Harry's familiar green eyes and Ron's warm smile made her strong–– they were the Golden Trio, after all.

But when Bellatrix ran into the room, wand held high, with a whole group of Death Eaters behind her…

Chaos ensued.

**Author's Notes: **So that was kind of a cliffhanger, don't get mad at me (: Anyhow, I hope that the beginning of the chappie made up for how little Dramione this chapter had. I didn't get a chance to read through it, so I apologize for grammar or spelling issues. Do review and tell me your thoughts!


	12. Everything Falls Down

**Author's Notes: **Woo, I'm updating quickly! Many of you are wondering where Draco went: the answer is in this chappie, folks! So read on and satiate your curiosity. I had to do so much research on this chapter, I think I spent more time reading on Harry Potter Wiki rather than actually writing it! A special mention to _SK, _my 300th reviewer! Review, people!

**An important notice: **Now that I've plotted further ahead, **the Deathly Hallows will be part of the story. **I've decided that since the seventh book is called 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows', it'd be a shame to leave it out, despite the fact that it doesn't play a big part at all. Furthermore, the **Horcruxes will be apart of the story. **Because of this, I'll be following J. K. Rowling's work a lot more, if not quoting her or rewriting some of her passages. This includes finding the cup at Gringotts, finding the diadem at the Room of Requirements, etc. Finally, because of how Hermione was taken right when Ron was about to leave, Hermione and Harry never went to Godric's Hollow and Grindelwald is not mentioned (it isn't important, anyhow). What happened when Harry and Ron were on the move **will be explained**.

_Reviewers: frostykitten, scribblybits, SharpestSatire, Loslote, weirdgiraffe, Panther Eyes, sammyyyconleyyy, birningice, Ijoan, edwardsoneandonlylove, Petite Love, OBLuvr13, Dramione, Draco's Veela Mate, miss quirky bookworm, Dark Warrior, Lost O'Fallon Girl, RabidChickensPokeAHairyEar, D.M. Lover 21, Luna Rose Lily, xc wings, SK, contusions-stigmata, Niriamel, CC _

Shout-out to _Dark Warrior: _Thank you for your review! I hope that my battle scene will meet your expectations (: I'll try my best! It's a huge honor to be compared to J. K. Rowling, thank you!

O

"Well, well, _look _what we have _here!" _Bellatrix cackled, eyes bright with greed. Her lips curled into a menacing sneer, and a frightening smile stretched across her face. Her wild black hair sizzled with energy, reminiscent to the static crackles of lightening flashing across the sky.

Narcissa's clear eyes were filled with dread and terror as her lips formed an 'o' in horror. Her blue eyes began to darken, as Veelas' eyes do when preparing for a fight.

The glints of the Death Eater masks reacted strangely to the chandelier lighting in the room, and the eerie feeling of not being able to see the emotions on their enemies' faces crept into their bodies: Voldemort knew what he was doing when he added masks to their attire.

"What's your plan?" Hermione whispered fervently to Harry and Ron, never tearing her eyes away from the crazy witch.

"Er…" Ron mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. She couldn't see him, but she knew Ronald Bilius Weasley well enough to guess that he just blushed a tomato red.

Hermione's grip on her wand tightened. "Ron, there's no time for fooling around…"

"We don't have a plan, 'Mione," Harry muttered, sounding properly ashamed.

Hermione cursed under her breath . At the sight of Harry and Ron, she had felt her heart fill, as if there had been a hole in it. She felt complete. A side of her was flying, elated…

And another side was not.

Currently, that 'other side' was ruling over the initial happiness. Her stomach dropped at the two words 'no plan', and her heartbeat sped up as she tried to concentrate despite Bellatrix's signature cackling in the background.

"We're just going to have to fight our way out into the front yard and apparate––"

"Mudbloods do not deserve to have a voice in _anything, _you good-for-nothing piece of _dirt!" _Bellatrix interrupted harshly, her voice rising in pitch every time a word that came spewing out of her mouth. "_Silencio!"_

"_Protego!" _Hermione hissed, flicking her wand expertly. Bellatrix's simple Silencing Spell hit her shield with a surprisingly hard impact, making Hermione stumble against Ron's back before she steadied herself. She felt Ron begin to shake in silent anger: anger that she knew would explode with his short-temper…

"Harry, quickly. Send a random Patronus charm out the door. Ron, we'll both cast '_Stupefy' _at the same time."

Harry nodded, and she knew that he understood. By sending Harry's patronus out the door, many Death Eaters would be properly distracted by the stag. She wanted to use Harry's patronus because the Death Eaters already knew what his patronus was, while hers and Ron's remained a secret. And, once the Death Eaters were occupied, Ron and Hermione's synchronized Stunning Spells would cause a greater impact rather than if they attacked separately.

"The Dark Lord will be _pleased, _Potty, that you ran willingly into the arms of––"

"Now!"

"_Expecto patronum!" _

The silvery spirit of a stag burst from Harry's wand and leapt over the crowd of black cloaks, looking out of place because of the warmth that it radiated and the brightness that followed. Heads turned, following the silver form.

"What do you think you're doing, you fool s––" Bellatrix started, raising her wand arm.

"_Stupefy!" _two red lights flashed across the room. The two combined spells twirled around each other like brother and sister, racing each other across the room towards the target.

Hermione quickly flicked her wand a second time while Ron brought up a shield to block from any possible attacks.

"_Geminio magicis!" _She murmured, aiming her wand at the meeting point of the two red spells. This particular spell was an invention of hers. While Ron was busy snogging Lavender in their sixth year, she was occupying her time by studying and preparing for the war by learning offensive, defensive, and healing spells. In the case that she, Harry, and Ron had to fight off many Death Eaters at once, they would need to cast many more spells, which would easily tire them out. Her variation of the 'Gemino Curse' would not only be able to multiply objects, but it would also multiply spells the instant that they meet contact, hence the '_magicis'_ part of the spell. However, it could only duplicate simple spells, the Stunning spell being the most complex. Dark curses and Unforgivables would not duplicate because of the potency and the complexity of the spells.

The three spells met and clashed with a ground-shaking impact, and instead of only two Stunning spells emerging, four shot outwards. These four spells crossed once again, and eight Stunning spells fired its way into the shocked group of Death Eaters.

The trance over the Death Eaters disappeared the moment eight of their people collapsed without a sound, their useless, stunned bodies on the ground.

"_You do not deserve magic, you filth!" _Bellatrix screeched, launching herself at them. An array of fiery light suddenly rushed at them at a jarring speed, her loud shouts accompanying them.

Ron gasped as the curses slammed into his shield, and he groaned in pain as the blue shield began to flicker before it gave way to Bellatrix's onslaught. Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry's arm, harshly yanking them out of the way as they dived for the ground. Bellatrix's spells slammed into the marble of the Malfoy Manor, creating a pile of rubble where a wall used to be.

"Bella, stop!" Narcissa shrieked, rushing forward.

"Cissy! Stay _back!" _with a swish of her wand, Bellatrix forcibly pushed her sister back into Lucius' arms. Bellatrix's eyes were wide with concentration: her eyeballs were nearly popping out of her sockets.

"No! Don't hurt the girl!" Narcissa pled, trying to get out of her husbands arms. "My son! He needs––"

"_Silencio!" _Bellatrix shouted, and her younger sister was silenced as if gagged. Narcissa's usually pale face was flushed pink, and her perfect not-a-strand-out-of-place hair was tussled.

"Get up! We've got to run!" Hermione hissed, dragging the boys up. A collection of colors rushed towards them, and they were forced to duck once again as spells flew past their heads.

"_Protego horribilis!" _Harry cast a stronger shield meant to block out most dark curses. He pushed them forward, watching as Death Eaters ran to block the entrance.

"Don't kill Potter! DON'T KILL POTTER!" a Death Eater shouted as a green light flashed through the room.

"Cover me!" Hermione shouted, and Harry and Ron closed like curtains in front of her. Hermione levitated a stone table and slammed it into the center of the area, temporarily blocking a few spells and preventing the Death Eaters from running towards them. Rock flew everywhere, and a bruise was forming below her eye from a stone that hit her face, but the small pain didn't matter.

"How're we going to get out?" Harry shouted, once again flicking a shield into place as a purple light streaked past them. "The Death Eaters blocked the entrance!"

"We–– ugh," Hermione hissed as a Severing Charm grazed her arm. A deep cut formed on her skin, and blood dripped from it. She gasped at the sharp pain, and she grabbed the cut on her arm, the blood dribbling over her fingers.

"Hermione!"

"I'm fine, we've got to run… Just… Harry, cast as many consecutive Shield Charms as you can while Ron and I take down as many Death Eaters as we can… We've got to be out of here before You-Know-Who arrives," Hermione instructed, launching out of their previous hiding spot behind the table. The table suddenly burst into bits behind them.

Harry jumped in front of them, hissing '_protego horribilis' _and muttering it over and over again like a chant. Flashes of lights met and exploded in the center of the room, switching and turning at strange angles. Marble turned to dust and rubble, and she saw Narcissa Malfoy struggling against her husband in the corner, trying her best to break the Silencing Charm and save Hermione to give her son a chance to live.

Draco… where was he?

But there was no time to dwell on the blonde, and Hermione shot as many spells as she could, hissing when a spell hit her. Her wand hand was slick with her blood, but she only had one goal: get out.

"Hermione… I can't… _Protego… _last… much… longer… _Protego horribilis!" _Harry grunted. He sounded as weak as she felt: their energy levels were draining quickly, and because of how the Death Eaters had spread out, her variation of the Gemino Curse wouldn't do any good…

The stone was blasted apart behind her, and she pushed them towards the entrance…

"Ron!" Hermione shouted as her redheaded friend suddenly collapsed. He lay on the ground, pale and bloodied by the Death Eater's spells, his face bruised. "No, Ron! _Protego… protego totalum!" _she hissed a variation of the Shield Charm that lasted longer. Without checking to see if the shield worked, she bent down, her hands shaking.

"Ron… Ron! Oh, please, Merlin… _Rennervate! Rennervate!" _she shouted desperately, nearly sinking in relief as Ron's eyes flickered open. He groaned, clutching at his chest, but she didn't know how to heal it without dittany.

"Oh, Ron… Are you okay?" Hermione asked, talking off her sweatshirt and holding it to his bloody wound across his chest. "Ron…"

"You may, of course, come peacefully," Bellatrix called mockingly, her wand aimed at them. The Death Eaters had fallen behind her obediently, just pawns in the game. The manor was suddenly quiet, especially when compared to the shouts and curses and the crashes of rock that was occurring before. Only Ron's grunts of pain, Harry and Hermione's pants of exertion, and Bellatrix's high voice were audible. "But, of course, fighting is so much more interesting! Your petty shield charm will do nothing against an Unforgivable Curse. Perhaps you, Mudblood, would like to get a taste of my Cruciatus first? The Dark Lord will be here soon, and I'd like to fit in some torture before the master takes over. I don't like to waste time, you see." Her voice was baby-ish and scornful as she gave them a wide-eyed look that was supposed to be innocent.

"Hm…" Bellatrix tapped her cheek, as if in deep thought. "You like planning, Mudblood, don't you? Well, here's the plan. I'll give Potter over to the Dark Lord, of course, and he'll banish the little '_Boy-Who-Lived'. _I'll even tend to you _personally, _mudblood, for corrupting Draco. You'll get seven Crucios, since seven _is _a magically powerful number, after all. Then, I'll carve the words 'mudblood' into your filthy little arm… I'll even use my Black family knife! Oh, you should be kissing my shoes for such an honor!"

There was a crack, but Bellatrix did not notice, brushing it aside for a crack in the stone. Hermione's grip tightened on Ron –– she swore that that was the noise of apparition. A glance shared with Harry confirmed it.

Hermione stared at Harry, who was pulling up the hem of his trousers and stuffing his hand down his soiled socks. He pulled out a sharp shard of a mirror, a tip of it bloody from poking into his skin.

Bellatrix began leisurely walking back and forth, still tapping her cheek. "And for the _blood-traitor," _she purred, rolling her head and leaping her next step, "Why, I'm sure that My Lord will approve of the idea of having him _watch _the 'Boy-Who-Lived' die at the wand of the powerful Dark Lord!"

"Oh, and what is this great weapon that you plan of fighting the Dark Lord with? A mirror?" It seemed like Bellatrix _was _paying attention, but she was simply too confident to care.

Hermione saw Harry's lips murmur the words _'help us' _at the mirror, and she felt the small hope that there was something special about the mirror die. The mirror wouldn't do anything: the twin had died with Sirius Black.

"Now, _Mudblood," _Bellatrix sneered, flicking her wand and dragging Hermione into the center of the room, "Let's start that carving, _shall we? _We can get to the Cruciatus Curses later._" _A dagger appeared in her hand, and she twirled it around her hand, a sadistic grin on her face.

The group of Death Eaters chuckled: Bellatrix never failed to put on a good show.

"NO! HERMIONE!" Ron suddenly shot up, wincing as his chest blazed in pain. He tried to limp over to her, and Harry was torn between the wellbeing of both friends.

Bellatrix waved her arm lazily, and the two boys were thrown against the wall, binded by invisible ropes, and silenced.

"Let's start with the letter 'M'," Bellatrix giggled madly, bringing the sharp blade of the dagger down on Hermione's arm without mercy. Hermione gave out a muffled scream, biting on her lip and trying keep from giving Bellatrix the satisfaction of hearing her scream in pain.

Hermione saw, out of her peripherals, Harry and Ron, shouting, fighting against Bellatrix's binds, but they were just wasting energy. Fresh blood was oozing out of Ron's chest wound.

"This is how you write the letter 'u'," Bellatrix instructed, her voice cloyingly sweet. She slowly traced the letter into Hermione's arm, relishing the feeling of skin tearing and blood dripping from the fresh wound.

"Here's 'd'," the crazy witch stabbed the dagger deep into Hermione arm, forcing another muffled scream from the girl. "Oopsies… stabbed a little too deep."

Hermione's throat felt choked, and tears slipped out of her eyes as she squeezed them tightly closed. Her hands were curled into white fists as Bellatrix taught her how to write a 'b'.

The pain in her arm was unbearable. The ice-cold blade that mixed with her hot blood made pain erupt throughout her entire body.

She turned her head to look at Ron and Harry, who were screaming fruitlessly.

More tears.

She was the blame. If the Death Eaters hadn't captured her, Ron and Harry wouldn't need to save her, and they wouldn't be in those binds waiting for Lord Voldemort to appear…

She felt shame weigh down her body, and soon, her eyelashes and cheeks were coated in fresh tears.

More pain.

"Aw… is little muddy-bloody crying? Oh, _dear." Slap. _The harsh sound echoed through the room, but Hermione barely felt it. Her body was numbing, and the pain in her arm and heart were the only things that she felt…

"Want to test out my crucio? I assure you, it'll be fun…. For me," Bellatrix threw her head back and howled in laughter as if it was the funniest thing that she had ever said. Her black curly hair tumbled down her back, revealing a slim and pale neck.

Hermione felt her body drown in hopelessness. She knew that she was going to die.

She loved her family and friends, she did. Her dead family… and so many dead friends. Hermione turned her head, once again, to stare at Harry and Ron, who were sagging against the wall.

_I love you, _she mouthed towards them, more tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes. _I love you. _

If she could ever pity Voldemort for anything, she would pity him for love. Love was such a great feeling… She knew that she could die, right then and there, because she knew that it was for the people that she loved.

Maybe Voldemort would be foolish enough to ask for a duel with Harry. Ignorance and pride always were his weak traits.

Maybe Harry would win the duel.

Maybe the world had hope.

Hermione stared at the ceiling, which was covered in intricate designs. The Malfoy Manor: always designed the look the best––

Malfoy.

Draco was going to die with her because she was his supposed mate, wasn't he? But he _had _said that he would be able to live because he hadn't mated with her yet…

Something told her that he had been lying to knock down her confidence level.

Hermione wished that she had trusted him more. He had risked a lot for her, she realized. He had left his family, his friends, and swore on his name to protect her. He had held her in his arms in times of pain.

Bellatrix was taking out her wand, a smug and gleeful look painted on her face. But before Bellatrix could utter a word, she was thrown back against the cold floor, her wand several feet away from her. The Death Eaters immediately tensed, leaning forward as a group, prepared for anything. Panicked muttering was exchanged among them.

"Who dares to––?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, her hands shaping into claws.

Dobby stood where Bellatrix used to stand, his fingers in a snapping position, his green tennis ball eyes wide.

"Dobby," Hermione breathed, staring at the small house-elf.

Dobby smiled at her, bowing and saying reverently, "Kind Miss! Oh, how Dobby is so happy to see Miss!" He turned around, snapping his fingers, and Harry and Ron were released from their binds and their Silencing Charms.

"_How dare you try to kill me, you insufferable elf!" _Bellatrix shrieked, standing once again, her feet apart.

"Dobby was only trying to maim, not kill, madam!" Dobby answered, lifting his chin up.

"You––"

The Death Eaters attacked at once, as if some unspoken statement had been made. Dobby snapped his fingers again, and a shield was brought up.

"_CRUCIO!" _Bellatrix screeched, knowing that the Unforgivable spell would penetrate the shield. An invisible stream of energy popped through the bubble of protection and drove straight into Hermione, whose eyes suddenly widened. She doubled over, crumbling to the floor once again.

The pain was beyond what she had tried fervently to forget.

She was burning, but she was freezing. She was being stabbed, but she was being whipped. She was being kicked, but she was being slashed.

It was everything.

She didn't know which way was up or down. It didn't matter.

She didn't know if she was alive or dead. It didn't matter.

All that mattered was the pain, and she wanted it to _stop… _

A sharp scream came out of her mouth, and Hermione shrieked for all it was worth. It was just as painful as it was when Voldemort had cast the Cruciatus Curse on her–– you never got used to the pain.

She quickly muffled the horrendous sound coming from her mouth. No, she couldn't scream. Not with her friends watching, horrified, trying to get Bellatrix to stop. Not with the Death Eaters watching. Not if she was still breathing.

Was she still breathing?

She felt arm wrap around her, but she couldn't see. She couldn't see anything. The arms felt good… comforting. The pain had stopped… but it was still there, ringing in her head. Her body was shaking like a leaf, and she couldn't stop it. It was like she was just drifting, watching as some other being take over her body.

It felt numb.

There was a dizzying sensation, and for a moment, she couldn't _breathe, _and she panicked, clawing at the arms that were holding her. Then, relief.

The wind was blowing all around them, and she could hear the crashing waves of the sea. The sun was burning, burning as if there was no tomorrow.

The no-breathing sensation must have been apparition.

"Is everyone all right? Hermione–– What the bloody hell are you doing, Malfoy? Let go of her, you good-for-nothing _Death Eater!" _

"Harry Potter?" the frail, weak voice of Dobby stopped Harry.

Hermione opened her eyes to see a pair of pale arms around her and Bellatrix's dagger imbedded into Dobby's chest.

**Author's Notes: **Wow, it took an entire chapter to write the Manor scene. _I'm so sorry that I killed Dobby like J. K. Rowling did!_ It had to be done! Anyhow, now that Draco is with the Golden Trio, this ought to get real interesting. I hope this chapter wasn't too shabby. How'd I do? I spy a nice argument in the next chappie. Please comment!

_Geminio magicis: _The 'Gemino Curse' was in the Deathly Hallows, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione went into the Lestranges' vault, only to find that the object multiplied every time. '_Gemino' _means 'to double'. '_Magicis' _means magic, and I added on that part myself. The disadvantage of this spell is that it can only be used on simpler spells, the Stunning spell being the most complex. For instance, if Voldemort wanted to kill everyone, he wouldn't be able to duplicate a dark spell or the Unforgivables.


	13. Promise?

**Author's Notes: **Chapter 13! This is very much a filler chapter where Harry and Ron explain to Hermione what they've been up to. Enjoy, and review, please!

_Reviewers: KoretheMaiden, RabidChickensPokeAHairyEar, OffMyTea, Loslote, frostykitten, claudia, jtrem, Mollyloumellon, Niriamel, ChloeDracoMalfoy, OBLuvr13, Luna Rose Lily, birningice, AreYouSirius-questionmark, Panther Eyes, edwardsoneandonlylove, Dark Warrior, miss quirky bookworm, cc, Spunkalovely, bearsbeetsbsg, EsemmeTresemme, SnowCharms, marmia days, SharpestSatire_

_Shout-out to Panther Eyes: _Ah, I must warn you! There are more descriptions of Dobby's death right below! Sorry! *Cries * I was writing it while listening to 'Farewell to Dobby' from the Harry Potter track, and I was nearly in tears!

O

Dobby's eyes were glassy, and Hermione could see the life dimming in them. As he fell over, Harry rushed forward and caught the small, skinny body in his arms, and she could see tears forming in his eyes.

"D-Dobby… everything… Everything will… Everything will be all right, okay? Hang on… Hermione… if you have an-anything…" Harry whispered, giving her a heartbreakingly hopeful look. Bruises and scabs marred his face as he gazed at her. "Hermione… please… the dittany…"

Hermione felt her clothes become soaked in the seawater as it slid up the sand, and her eyes began to water as she stared at the dying elf in Harry's arms.

Nothing could help Dobby. He was just hovering in between the line of life and death, and not even dittany would save him.

Ron groaned from the side as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, his red hair mahogany because of the water. His blood mingled with the sea, and he was crawling over to them with difficulty. "Harry…"

"Such a beautiful place it is, to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friend, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered, his muscles loosening. For a moment, there was as if a silence: no waves crashing and no seagulls cawing overhead. For a moment, Dobby lingered in life. In the next moment, the trance was broken, and Dobby, one of the most ambitious, kind, and enthusiastic house-elf, was dead.

Hermione didn't know Dobby all that well, and she never had known that he meant so much to her. Her throat felt like it was being squeezed, and she sobbed quietly, burying her head into Draco's chest, unable to stare at Harry's unbearably miserable face. She never would've guess that the ultimate sacrifice of a brave house-elf would be the thing that saved them from the Death Eaters.

Harry held Dobby's limp form in his arms for a moment, and no one knew what to say. Luna lightly padded over to them, her eyes still distant and her face always in a dream-like expression. She lightly placed her fingers on Dobby's eyelids and pressed them down.

"There. Now he looks like he's sleeping," she whispered.

Harry squeezed his eyes close, letting tears drip onto Dobby's body, before he lightly placed Dobby into Luna's arms and whirled around. He picked up his wand from the ground, his hands shaking in what was becoming fury.

"Get away from her," he spat at Draco, his wand trembling as he aimed it at the blonde. When Draco didn't move, Harry took one step forward, a mix of anger and sadness in his emerald eyes. His grief fueled him as he stumbled towards them. "I said, _get away from her, _you sick _Death Eater!" _he shouted, sparks sputtering out of the end of his wand.

"Harry, please, let me explain––"

"Explain _what?" _Harry hollered. "He's a _Death Eater, _one of _them! _A _Death Eater _killed Dobby! He's… he's a _murderer!" _

"No, Harry, listen––" Hermione suddenly gasped in pain as she shifted, blood pouring out of her wounds. Ron was breathing hard on his back, and the water around him was red.

Harry's eyes softened as he surveyed their injuries. "_Expelliarmis," _he whispered, and Draco's wand flew into his hand. Malfoy stared at him blankly, grey eyes devoid of emotion.

"Come on, Bill and Fleur must have some healing potions," he said quietly, helping Ron up into a standing position. His eyes never strayed from Draco as he bound Draco's two arms behind his back, causing Hermione to stumble from the loss of stability. Harry grabbed his friend and put his arm around her shoulder, ignoring the cautioning growl that was issuing from Malfoy.

However, Harry's care for his friends overweighed his mistrust of Malfoy, and they limped their way to the cottage, Luna carrying Dobby.

Bill and Fleur welcomed them with anxious faces, and the moment Malfoy stepped into the cottage, he was bound to a chair. He put up a large fight, refusing to be separated from Hermione, and Bill and Fleur had to work diligently to try to keep him from breaking through the bonds until Fleur finally recognized that he was a Veela, like her.

She then bound him to the chair and levitated him into Hermione's room, where they took out a large box full of Blood-Replenishing potions, bruise removal paste, Calming Draughts, Dreamless Sleep Potions, a bottle of the Essence of Dittany, etc.

"Drink zis, Hermione," Fleur instructed, pouring a potion down her throat.

Hermione fell into an instant dreamless sleep.

O

She could hear loud voices, loud male voices that were arguing. Her head began pounding, and a headache began to rapidly develop at the crescendo of voices.

Hermione's brain felt like mush, and her eyelids felt so heavy that she didn't know if she had the strength to push them open. Her fingers twitched, and she groaned as she flexed her sore muscles.

Immediately, the voices ceased.

"Mione?" This was Harry, she could tell. His voice was weary and tired, but it was also kind and worried. She felt soft pressure on her wrist, and a growl escaped from the person behind him.

Draco.

With much effort, she forced her eyes open, wincing at the sudden onslaught of light on her eyes. She immediately squeezed them close again before she slowly eased her eyelids up, adapting to the light.

"How do you feel?" Emerald green eyes peered at her, and she forced a weak smile on her face.

"Better," she croaked. She cleared her throat. "How's Ron…?"

"Right here," a familiar voice issued from her side, and she turned her head slowly to see Ron lying on a twin bed parallel to hers. A large bandage was plastered over his chest, but the blood was returning to his face.

Hermione sighed in relief. "Ron."

"I'm sorry, Mione," the redhead said quietly, his blue eyes full of sorrow. "I didn't mean to get so angry. I…"

"You're forgiven," Hermione immediately responded, cutting off the rest of his apologies. "Just never leave. Promise."

Ron gave her a wan smile. "I promise."

Someone coughed, and Hermione saw Draco, still bound to a chair and looking immensely uncomfortable. Harry's eyes immediately hardened.

"Hermione… is it true?"

"What?" Hermione asked softly, eyes flickering from Harry to Draco and then Harry again.

"Are you… his _mate?" _she saw the disgust and pain clearly in his eyes, and Hermione swallowed, afraid of his anger. She curled up into a ball, recoiling from him, and Harry immediately took a deep breath and apologized.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, afraid of speaking louder. She kept her eyes trained on a loose thread in her quilt, and she blinked slowly as she continued. "That's why he grabbed me that day. It's also the reason why I trusted him to get me out of Malfoy Manor."

"Out? But you were fighting the Death Eaters, and the ferret wasn't even there…"

Hermione figured that she should tell them the entire story: from the moment she left them to finally meeting them at Malfoy Manor once more. She left off some minor details, such as Draco asking her to lay next to him in bed, simply because she thought that Harry and Ron wouldn't appreciate knowing such a fact.

"Let me get this straight," Ron pushed himself up with his elbows. "Malfoy helped you escape from Malfoy Manor, only to realize that you were hit by a spell that he has no antidote to?"

"I didn't mean for her to get hurt," Draco snarled. "If I could've done anything different, I would've." Silver-grey eyes gazed at Hermione, and she shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating stare.

Ron ignored Malfoy's presence. "Afterwards, he brought you to a cottage that is warded, told you about You-Know-Who's plan to get the Thousand Array, and then you both went to Knockturn Alley to find this woman who you think you can trust? How did you get here?"

Hermione took a deep breath, still aware of Draco's stare and adamantly avoiding it.

"When I woke up, Draco wasn't there," Hermione said quietly. "I searched all over the house, and he wasn't there. It was a moment of weakness, a moment of doubt. He could've left and alerted the Death Eaters to come get me. So, I left. I didn't know where to go, so I left to find Deidre, the woman at Knockturn Alley. When I got there, her house was empty, and I was captured."

"You left because _I wasn't there?" _Draco asked coldly, no longer struggling against the ropes that tied him to the chair. "The hours that we've spent arguing over how much you could trust me, and yet you foolishly leave me to go to _Knockturn Alley…_"

"She has a right to not trust you!" Harry interjected harshly, glaring at him.

Draco sneered at him. Despite how he was sitting in a chair and Harry was standing, he still somehow managed to look down his nose at Potter. "A right? I risked everything for Hermione, and yet, she still manages to think the worst of me every time––"

"You risked everything for her? Really? You didn't do it out of the goodness of your non-existent heart, you did it because you're a Veela and she's your mate!"

"You are not entitled to judge _me, Potter ––"_

Harry was shaking with rage. "I have every right to! If not for you, we wouldn't have had to fight at Malfoy Manor like that!"

"Really? I bet you would've. I bet you would've stupidly said You-Know-Who's tabooed name and gotten yourself caught by those Snatchers!"

"No, we wouldn't've! I've been telling Harry to stop saying His name…" Ron said smugly.

"It doesn't bloody matter, all that matters is that––"

"I'm sorry, all right?" Hermione shouted, flinching at the pain that laced through her body as she sat up. The three males fell silent at this.

"I'm sorry that I didn't trust you, all right? I just can't simply place everything in your hands… It would help if you took an Unbreakable Vow."

"Magic isn't the answer to everything," Draco said softly yet emotionlessly. "I am dying for you, Hermione, literally. Everything that I do is to help you, to keep you safe, to hide you from harm. Somehow, you push away everything that I do for you."

Hermione stared at him, and he stared back. For a moment, she felt something stir inside of her, somewhere deep down that told her that he was telling the truth and that he was trustworthy. However, the moment was broken when Ron opened his mouth.

"You ferret!" he hissed. Draco rolled his eyes at this show of immaturity. "Just because you're some Veela doesn't mean that you, the heir of the _precious _and _pureblood _Malfoy family, are trustworthy!"

"How else do I prove myself, Weasley?" Draco spat back. "I appeared at Malfoy Manor to save you all, and that's exactly what I did!"

"_Dobby _saved us all!" Harry bellowed, fists shaking. "_Dobby _was the one who apparated us away; _Dobby _was the one who took that knife!"

"I had a plan to get us out," Draco said coldly. "It was fruitless of you to try to get past the wards of Malfoy Manor. You could've tried the Floo…"

"And Floo where?" Harry challenged, enraged.

"My cottage," Malfoy answered readily, eyes flashing. "Or here, since you're allowed into the protection."

"The Ministry is controlling the Floo networks!"

"But they're not watching it anymore, are they? They know that you three are on the run and that you wouldn't be using the Floo anymore. If they want to track you, as long as you have specific wards to keep them out, they won't be able to!"

Harry advanced, towering over his figure. "Explain how I couldn't Floo away the night that I left Privet Drive."

"Because the Ministry was watching your fireplace, goddamnit!" Draco hollered, breaking through the binds as he stood up. Ron and Harry immediately pulled out their wands, but he ignored them.

"Get out," Harry hissed, his voice deadly quiet. "I don't want you anywhere near me. Get out. Now."

Draco narrowed his eyes into silver slits. "Are you bloody deaf? I've already told you that I need Hermione. I'm wandless, and here you are, threatening me. Coward, Potter?" he taunted.

"The only coward I see here is you, _Malfoy," _Harry shot back. "Explain what happened on the top of the Astronomy Tower with Dumbledore that day."

"I had no choice!"

"Show me your forearm! I saw your Dark Mark there, crystal clear!"

"_I am not a Death Eater just because I have a Dark Mark!" _Draco shouted, his silver eyes darkening. "Does it matter to you that despite how I have this… this _tattoo _on my arm, I just saved Hermione from the Cruciatus _and _rescued her from Malfoy Manor before? I will _die _without her, and heaven forbid, a Veela's mate is supposed to be the Veela's most _compatible person_ in the _damned world!" _

"Supposed to be, eh?" Ron growled, prodding him with his wand. "You don't even _care _for Hermione, you just care for your lowly, worthless life!"

Draco's eyes blazed. "I _do _care for Hermione! I happen to _like _her! Why else would I want to rip apart every single male that touches her? Why else would I go to such great lengths to keep her away from harm? It isn't just the Veela, it's the _human too!" _

Silence.

"Slytherins are good at lying, aren't they?" Ron jeered.

"Good Merlin! Put aside the fact that I made fun of you in school!" Draco began pacing. "Forget the fact that I am from a family known for the Dark Arts. I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Dumbledore?" Harry demanded.

"_The Dark Lord threatened my family!" _

"This is a pointless argument!" Hermione hissed, standing up and loping towards them. She pushed Harry back, restraining him and forcing him to lower his wand.

"_Please, _Harry. _I _trust Draco. I didn't before, but I… Just… just explain to me what you and Ron did while I was gone," she said, in an obvious attempt to distract him.

Harry, eyes still glaring at Draco with hostility, sat down on the bed. Eyes trained carefully on him, he spoke.

"You know how you were talking about going to talk to Xenophilius Lovegood? Well, Ron and I did that. He told us about the tale of the three brothers…"

"_The Tales of Beedle the Bard?" _Hermione asked, eyes wide. "That's the book that Dumbledore left me!"

Harry nodded, turning to face her, apparently leaving it to Ron to watch over Malfoy. "Yeah, that one. The sign is for the Deathly Hallows… the triangle, for the invisibility cloak, the circle, for the resurrection stone, and the line, for the Elder Wand. Those three can make a person immortal."

Hermione looked puzzled. "But why would a fairytale be so important? It was in Dumbledore's letter to Grindelwald, and Luna's father was wearing the necklace."

"It's obvious, isn't it? You-Know-Who's after the Elder Wand."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Harry, the Deathly Hallows is a myth…"

Harry looked weary again. "Hermione, I'll argue with you later. Promise you won't interrupt me?"

Hermione opened her mouth before clamping it closed quickly, nodding.

Harry smiled grimly. "Turns out that while Xenophilius was telling us the story of the Deathly Hallows, he had sent for the Death Eaters. Luna had been captured, and he was going to do anything to get Luna back."

Hermione was about to say how Luna was right here, in Shell's Cottage, when Harry gave her a look and she quieted.

"He blew up an Erumpent Horn when he was trying to stop us, and it snapped my wand in two."

Hermione couldn't contain herself. "Harry! But… what about the twin cores, and the…" she massaged her temples. "Harry, you can't destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named without the twin cores!"

Harry took a deep breath. "I know, Mione. Ron grabbed me, and we apparated away before they caught us. We attacked a group of Death Eaters to get me a wand, and we found Luna, Mr. Ollivander, and Griphook, a goblin, and rescued them. But, before that, Ron found the sword."

"What?"

"Ron found the sword of Gryffindor, Mione. A doe patronus led me to the pool, and I jumped in. The locket tried to drown me, I think, to stop me from getting the sword, and Ron rescued me. He destroyed the locket."

Draco, as this point, looked immensely confused, but he did a better job keeping quiet than Hermione.

"You destroyed the locket?" Hermione turned to stare at Ron, who blushed. "Do you know who sent the patronus?"

"We've no idea," Ron answered.

"Anyhow, we brought Luna, Mr. Ollivander, and Griphook to Shell's Cottage, and then, Ron and I left for Malfoy Manor to rescue you. If you hadn't been captured at Knockturn Alley just in time, we probably would've been caught," Harry smiled gratefully at his most intelligent friend. "You were also right about the snitch–– it has flesh memories. However, I didn't catch my first snitch with my hand, I nearly swallowed it." Harry grabbed his bag and took out the golden metal sphere.

"_I open at the close," _Hermione read, staring at the enigmatic letters. "What do you suppose that means?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, taking the snitch back. "Oh, and here's your bag," he handed over Hermione's bag that had an Undetectable Extension Charm placed on it, and she took it.

"The Deathly Hallows, it doesn't make sense," Draco finally spoke, and Harry immediately stiffened at his voice, evidently forgetting that the fourth, unwelcome person was still in the room.

"The Dark Lord is after the Thousand Array, a stone meant to enhance one's powers. I heard him discussing it once, with Aunt Bellatrix. He isn't the type to go looking for two things at once."

Harry turned around to glower at Draco. "The woman at Knockturn Alley had said that the Thousand Array was in China. We are not going to China, and You-Know-Who certainly isn't strong enough to make the Chinese Ministry collapse just yet."

Draco just narrowed his eyes. "And what is this locket and sword business that you speak of?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, who gazed back at him.

"I'll fill him in later," Hermione said quietly.

"You're going to trust that git?" Ron demanded, eyes flickering in between Hermione and Draco.

"He's saved my life many times, Ron. I think that it's time for me to tell him everything," Hermione whispered. Draco felt his heart do a little flip of joy at those words.

"I need to speak with Griphook and Ollivander," Harry turned away from the blonde, focusing on Ron and Hermione. "You two should rest…"

"No!" both Ron and Hermione pushed themselves off the bed to show that they were going with him. Harry eyed Malfoy for a moment, but then decided to simply ignore him for the time being.

"Don't try anything or else you'll find your bloodied head in the middle of the Pacific Ocean," Harry threatened lowly, leading the way to Griphook's room.

O

Thoughtful with their latest encounters with Griphook and Ollivander, Hermione led Draco to the living room, where she was going to tell him everything that Dumbledore had trusted to the three of them.

Hermione couldn't believe that they were going to break into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault to get the Hufflepuff cup, with the help of Griphook. It was bizarre to think of the large, golden building of Gringotts and breaking into it. Griphook had asked, in exchange, that they give him the sword of Gryffindor… sometime.

After their conversation with Ollivander, Hermione still doubted that the Deathly Hallows was something existent. How could a fairytale be real? The mere thought of three objects that would make a single person a master of death was intimidating. The thought of Voldemort in possession of the Elder Wand was even more intimidating.

Hermione sat down on the couch, and Draco sat next to her, making her shift away slightly. Sitting next to him made her feel slightly… awkward.

She had never known how much Harry and Ron trusted her. She had expected for them to completely blow up and kill Draco the moment they saw him, but they hadn't. They didn't because Hermione had said that he was trustworthy.

She immediately launched into the story, telling Draco about Lord Voldemort's seven Horcruxes. She started with the diary, in the Chamber of Secrets, and didn't miss a thing.

By the end, Draco was, simply put, shocked. Seven pieces of Voldemort's soul? _Seven lives? _

"We've already destroyed the diary, the ring, and the locket. All that's left are the Hufflepuff cup, something of Ravenclaw, and we suspect his snake, Nagini. The seventh part of his soul would be his current one."

There was a silence after her words, and Hermione shifted once again.

"Where were you? I couldn't find you anywhere," she said, turning to look at him, slightly afraid of his answer. He seemed to understand that she was talking about how she had left because she hadn't found him anywhere, despite the sudden change of subject.

Draco stared out of the window, at the roaring and crashing waves. He sighed. "There's a trail out in the forest behind the cottage. I like to go there to find peace." He turned to gaze at her. "I'll show you when we go back."

"Promise?" Oh, holy mother of Merlin, buggering _hell, _did she just ask that? Blood rose to her face, and she turned around, wanting to dig a hole and bury herself in it.

The famous Malfoy smirk appeared on his face. "You're blushing, _Hermione." _He placed a cold hand on her hot cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. "Yes, I promise. What is it that muggles say? Pinky promise?" He held out a pinky, staring at her expectantly.

Hermione's eyes widened comically. Here she sat, on the couch, next to Malfoy, his hand on her cheek, offering a pinky promise to lead her to a trail behind his cottage?

"I… erm," she cleared her throat, straightening herself up. She locked pinkies with him, shaking it twice before letting go.

_This is bizarre. _

She had expected him to shout at her more for leaving Silver Glades, but she supposed that he got it all out before. Hermione peered at him curiously, carefully looking away when he caught her eye.

**Author's Notes: **A nice dose of fluffiness before I finish this chappie (: Anyhow, yes, I am aware that Hermione was at Lovegood's in the actually books, and yes, I'm aware of some changes in the timeline. I hope you review… or else. _Dun, dun, dun…_


	14. Didn't Look Back

**Author's Notes: **Recently, I watched the very last of the Harry Potter movies, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II, and honestly, I was very impressed. The final battle was everything a war contains: the epic effects (magic, walls crumbling, giants swinging their clubs), the determination, and the grief for the dead. Here are the key parts of the movies (in my opinion). If you don't care, do skip down and read the chapter and _please _review. _Spoiler Alert: the Deathly Hallows. _

_The 'Clapping' Moments: _when Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix Lestrange ("not my daughter, you bitch!"), when Neville sliced Nagini's head off with the Gryffindor sword, and the end, obviously.

_The 'Crying' Moments: _when Snape died, when they showed Fred, Tonks, and Lupin's dead bodies, and when Harry met his parents, Sirius, and Lupin before he was about to die.

_The 'Aw' Moments: _when Ron and Hermione kissed and when Harry and Ginny kissed

_The 'Humorous' Moments: _when Neville taunted Scabior and his Death Eaters (and then had to run when Voldemort broke through the wards), when Hermione became Bellatrix Lestrange, "when have our plans ever worked? We get there and all hell breaks loose", etc. etc.

_The Awkward Moment: _Voldemort 'hugging' Draco?

"Hogwarts will always be there to guide you home" –– J.K. Rowling

_Reviewers: birningice, bbspoke1017, Panther Eyes, Bookworm181, Loslote, Owlkin, bearsbeetsbsg, xXheartandsoulXx, SnowCharms, edwardsoneandonlylove, MiraMarie, sassysharay, EllieBaby, CC, garnet riddle, poisoned blood, SharpestSatire, Pokadot Queen95, Niriamel, RabidChickensPokeAHairyEar, xc wings_

O

Ron leaned back, a pillow stuffed between his back and the wallpapered walls. A soft blanket covered his chest, stomach, and legs, and though the bed was narrow, it was comfortable. At least, it was much better than the lumpy mattress in that ruddy tent. His bruises felt sore and the huge slash across his chest still stung slightly, but at least he was alive.

In the twin bed parallel to his own, Harry was inspecting the snitch again, the golden metal shell reflecting the dim candlelight eerily. Lately, it had become a habit of Harry's: he would always get lost in thought while staring at the golden snitch, and Ron noticed that he gripped the sphere tightly whenever he felt angry or frustrated at the lack of information from Dumbledore.

Ron sighed, resting his head against the wall. Meeting Hermione again was wonderful. In a sense, it relieved him of his guilt and his near-betrayal of his friends. If he hadn't lost his temper… well, it would've been just the three of them, the Golden Trio, with no Malfoy tagging along.

That was the worst part: Malfoy. Draco sodding Malfoy.

Ron hadn't been aware of how much he loved Mione. In fact, he was sure that he had been staring at his own love for her for years, but he had always been too stubborn to accept it. Like many other people, he was afraid of commitment. Lavender was just an easy distraction; it was a purely physical relationship with no emotion involved and no pressure that came with love and devotion. It was simply snogging and pleasure.

When Hermione was wrenched from his grasp, he was torn apart. To see the way that Malfoy's filthy arm wrapped around her waist and pull her possessively to his side… it was torture. It was torturous, and it hurt him in every way. What hurt the most was that he could've stopped it. If he hadn't become so _bloody mad and frustrated, _then none of that would've happened. Malfoy would've died without finding his mate, Hermione would've been with them all along, and the three of them would be off hunting Horcruxes and eventually destroying Voldemort.

"Ron? What are you thinking of?" Harry's voice cut through his thoughts, and Ron sighed again. His best mate knew him well. Harry had known, for a long time, that Ron liked Hermione. In fact, Harry told him that Hermione liked him back.

"I'm thinking about how it should've been," Ron said quietly, staring at the plain white ceiling. "If I hadn't stormed off like that, everything would be Malfoy-less right now."

Harry shifted onto his side so that he faced his friend. "Perhaps having Malfoy here isn't that bad. He may have some information on the Death Eaters, and that ought to be helpful."

Ron snorted doubtfully. "From what I've heard, the Malfoy name has lost its respect in the eyes of You-Know-Who. I don't want a stupid Death Eater blundering the forest with us. I don't trust him."

"I don't trust him either. However, Mione does, and we ought to trust Mione. Her logic got us through a lot of stuff. Malfoys _are, _after all, Veelas," the Boy-Who-Lived murmured thoughtfully, "and having a Veela on your side is definitely a plus. I'm sure that Malfoy must know _something." _

Ron was silent for a moment, the word 'Veela' stamped onto his mind. That was what bothered him the most about Malfoy. Not only did he decide to tag along: Hermione was his _mate. _She was forever _Malfoy's_.

Harry fixed his green eyes on his long-time friend. He slipped his glasses off of his nose and placed them on a small, wooden nightstand next to his twin bed. "This isn't just about Malfoy being a Death Eater, is it?" he said quietly, sympathy clear in his voice.

The redheaded boy flicked a stray lock of hair out of his eyes and wiped his eyes tiredly with the back of his hand. "No. I mean, I really _don't _want a Death Eater following our every movement and knowing our plans and secrets, but he… Did he _have _to choose Mione?" Ron choked out.

"Think about it, Ron. This is Hermione Granger, muggleborn, fellow bookworm, and the fiercest and strongest girl we'll ever meet. Can you imagine her liking Malfoy? Malfoy, an arrogant, prejudiced, and pureblooded git?"

"I know," Ron rearranged the pillow behind his back to make it more comfortable. "But Mione's always had a weakness for people who are in need of help. She won't leave anyone out there to die, not if she can help it. Not even if it's Draco Malfoy."

Harry's silence was confirmation enough, and Ron curled his knees up, pulling his arms around his legs and sitting in fetal position. He moaned into his knees. "It's just like the house-elves. She's helping the ones that no one else wants to help. She'll probably give up her own happiness just so Malfoy can live."

"But she does need him to undo the curse––"

Suddenly, a high, painful scream woke all of the inhabitants of Shell Cottage, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other for a millisecond before throwing off their blankets and dashing towards Hermione's room (Harry hurriedly jammed his glasses on his face), wands at the ready, expecting anything from a troll to Lord Voldemort himself.

Malfoy was already there, arms wrapped around her, rocking her gently and whispering something in her ear. She clung to him like a drowning person, and her face was hidden in his chest. His shirt was already stained with tears, and his magic crackled in the air, a mixture of anger and hurt.

"Get away from her!" Ron hissed, aiming his wand at the pale man. "_Stupefy!" _A red light flashed in the room, but before the Stunning spell touched Malfoy, the spell sizzled out, an invisible barrier of protection around Draco and Hermione.

Malfoy lifted his head up to stare at Ron, and Ron backed up. The Veela's eyes were pitch black and glaring hatefully at him. An invisible force suddenly pushed Ron against the wall, and he felt pressure on his neck, as if two hands were wrapped around his throat and choking him…

Ron could hear Harry shouting, and he was sure that there were spells exchanged, but black dots were beginning to blur his vision and the blood was not circulating around his body properly…

"Draco!" Was that Hermione's frantic voice? He couldn't tell…

Ron began clawing at his own neck, trying to peel away the invisible hand that was strangling him…

"Enough, Draco Malfoy! I will not deal with zis nonsense!" Another force, more controlled and much more tamed, attacked Draco's Veela magic, and the pressure eased from Ron's throat, making him gasp as air rushed down his throat to his lungs. He slid onto the ground, leaning against the wall for support, panting.

Fleur was standing at the doorway, eyes blazing with fury. Bill was standing next to her, a reassuring hand on her thin shoulders and his scarred face resembling concern. "You weel _not _enter zis 'ouse and kill ze people! Control yourself or else you weel face ze consequences!" she said shrilly, stalking into the room and throwing her arms in front of Ron as if to protect him.

A wild growl ripped out of Draco's chest, and his arms tightened around Hermione, who was curled into a ball. Her body was shaking from spasms of pain, and a sliver of blood was trickling down her temple.

"'ermione, you must tell 'im to calm down," Fleur hissed, her voice lowering in pitch as her anger abated. "You are 'is mate… 'e weel only leesten to you."

Hermione trembled as she unwrapped herself and placed a violently shaking hand on his chest. "Please… Please, Draco, don't hurt them…" she whispered weakly, her voice and eyes imploring him to find sense.

Draco turned to look at her, his animalistic black eyes taking a moment to focus on her words. Slowly, he nodded, and his eyes lightened into its normal grey. His muscles relaxed as he felt her pain diminish.

"What in the world is going on?" Harry demanded, helping Ron stand up. His eyes flickered in between Draco and Hermione, begging for an answer.

"My father's curse," Draco croaked. His voice was hoarse and tired as he buried his face into Hermione's hair, taking in her scent. "It's becoming stronger. This was one of those pain attacks… I can't control myself when she's in pain. When… When Weasley sent a Stunning spell towards me, I acted instinctively and defended my mate and myself. I thought that Weasley was trying to hurt her."

Well, that was going to be the closest thing to an apology that a Malfoy would ever give to a Weasley.

Harry's face twisted into worry. "What are we going to do?"

"I arrived at the Manor by Apparating into my father's study. It's an area that apparition has been lifted for the people of the Malfoy blood, no Side-Along Apparition allowed. In the study, I found a letter. A letter addressed to Spinner's End."

"That's great. Now tell us how that helps," Ron hissed, though it sounded as though it was painful for him to speak. His throat was sore from being squeezed, and he felt light-headed from the ordeal, leaning on Harry for support.

Draco sent him a nasty glare. "Severus Snape, a respected _potion's master,_ lives on Spinner's End, you dolt. My father was asking him to send him the newly finished antidote to his curse. Since this curse is the only one without an antidote, you can assume that that is the one."

"But why," Hermione spoke up, her voice soft and weak, "would he send the letter to Spinner's End rather than Hogwarts itself? Snape is the headmaster, after all, and rarely ever goes home."

Draco's eyes softened as he looked at her, unconsciously tracing random lines on her arm. "Snape has a house-elf who takes any letters to Hogwarts for him. Because any letter to Hogwarts would be checked thoroughly by the Ministry, my father must've wanted to keep his curse out of the Ministry's greedy eyes by sending the letter directly to Snape's home instead."

"Where would the potion be?" Harry asked. "In Hogwarts? If it is… well, it'd be nearly impossible to get. We still have to go to Gringotts sometime soon, and we can't afford to be caught again."

Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably, remembering the unpleasant fight at Malfoy Manor. Ron rubbed his chest, absently tracing the scar that had resulted from the escape.

"I'd bet that it'd be at his house," Draco said slowly. "When I was younger, I suffered from mild dragon pox. My grandfather, Abraxas, had died from it, and Lucius immediately contacted Snape for a remedy. When we went to pick it up, the potion was in a cauldron in his house, not at Hogwarts. I think that his personal potions are always made at his own house on vacations."

Ron, who seemed to be listening to Draco's every word and eagerly trying to find something that contradicted another, narrowed his eyes. "If you had dragon pox, you would have a lasting greenish tinge to your skin," he said, much to everyone's surprise.

"I stress that it was a _mild _case of dragon pox, Weasley," Draco sneered.

Hermione, who immediately sensed an argument that was about to explode, pushed herself up into a sitting position, trembling as she did. Fleur pushed her way into her room, supporting the girl and brandishing her wand at Hermione's temples. The French Veela murmured an incantation under her breath, and the blood disappeared.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

Fleur nodded sharply, turning around and exiting the room with Bill by her side. The four heard Bill and Fleur assuring Griphook, Ollivander, and Luna that all was fine and that nothing was wrong.

"We'll go to Spinner's End, then," Harry announced. "We'll do whatever we need to do to get the antidote." When Hermione opened her mouth to argue (probably to mutter that they didn't need to risk their lives to get the remedy for her), Harry silenced her with a no-nonsense stare that rivaled Professor McGonagall's.

"That," Draco murmured, "is probably the most intelligent thing that I've ever heard you say, Potter."

O

Days past, and soon, Ollivander was moved to Aunt Muriel's. He departed with Fleur's tiara ("Goblin-made, I assume?" Griphook muttered) and promises to make Luna a new wand. Griphook, on the other hand, seemed to always be in a bad mood, and he was constantly in the room when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco where discussing what to do next.

Harry showed them where he buried Dobby, and they had all stood in silence around the grave, remembering the brave elf. Everyone had said very little, for they were choked up with emotion, except for Luna and Draco, much to everyone's surprise.

Luna, who spoke first, said what everyone wanted to say. However, Draco, who spoke last, astonished them all.

"Dobby was a nice house-elf," Draco murmured quietly. "When I was younger, he took care of me, and though my father never beat me, Lucius did lecture me plenty, and Dobby reassured me that everything was going to be all right whenever he did."

Harry, having forgotten that Dobby was once the Malfoy's house-elf, blinked at him in surprise. However, Harry said nothing about this, and he told the others to leave while he kept his silent vigil for the house-elf.

When it began to drizzle, Luna walked out with a peculiar-looking Muggle umbrella and stood next to him. They were out there for hours.

Hermione sighed as she turned away from the window. Harry was valiant, brave, and always the hero that everyone needed. And though many people saw only his faults and flaws, she knew that Harry hurt more than he let on. The Ministry had publically ostracized him, and his friends and family were hurt because of the prophecy that linked him to Voldemort. Her eyes flickered towards his figure, no longer lonely because of Luna standing beside him. Yes, he was much more hurt than he let on.

Hermione jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she whirled around to see Draco standing next to her. He gave her a cross between a smirk and a smile before motioning towards the door.

"Walk with me," he said, his hand wrapped around her wrist. His touch sent a thousand electric zaps up her arm, and she nodded slowly, allowing him to pull her out the back door and into the misty day. She didn't see Ron slink by with three bags. She didn't see Malfoy nod curtly at him. She didn't see Ron nod back.

Hermione lightly pulled her wrist out of his grasp, trying her best not to hurt his feelings while doing so. She knew that she had failed when he sharply stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked faster than he had before.

She really didn't know what to say as she trailed behind him, trying her best not to slip in the wet sand that was beginning to turn into mud. Whenever she did slip, however, Draco's hand whipped out and caught her arm, steadying her, before he stuffed his hand back into his pockets.

Hermione took a deep breath, about to ask him what they were doing, when he spoke.

"Granger… Hermione," Draco said quietly. He slowed down so that they were strolling along at a leisure pace.

"Were you going to kill Ron?" Hermione blurted out, unable to keep in this particular question. While she was in a haze of pain, she had still seen Ron nearly get choked to death by an invisible power. She had tried to speak, but she couldn't. Not without screaming from the pain.

Draco gazed at her, his silver eyes unreadable. "Do you really want to know the answer?"

She shuddered. If Fleur hadn't been there… If Fleur wasn't half-Veela herself…

"I wouldn't kill Weasley if I'm lucid," Draco sighed. "However, Weasley should be much more cautious around me when my Veela side takes over. The only life that I care about when I'm a Veela is yours."

Hermione gnawed at her lip, thinking, before she remembered what Draco had said before. _You should stop doing that. It always gives away your emotions, and it attracts attention. _She quickly let go of her bottom lip, blushing slightly at the memory.

She cleared her throat. "What you said about the antidote to your father's curse. Is it… Is it true?"

Draco stared. "Why in the world would I be lying?"

Hermione swiftly looked away from him.

He sighed exasperatedly, roughly combing his long fingers through his blonde hair. "It's the trust issue again, isn't it?" he said lowly. "You think that I'm leading you to Spinner's End so that Snape can catch all of you."

"I… I just wanted to be sure," Hermione said meekly, brushing a lock of frizzy hair behind her ears. "I didn't mean to offend."

Draco took a deep breath, sounding like he was trying to control his temper. "Of course not," he hissed.

The Gryffindor narrowed her eyes, halting. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You never _mean _to offend," Draco spat. "But you always _do _anyways." He towered over her, and though he completely dwarfed her, Hermione was not afraid. She wasn't afraid of him or his anger. Not anymore.

"I need _time, _Malfoy!" Hermione said angrily. "I've told you already: I can't simply trust you after our past!"

Draco began to pace. The rain fell harder, changing from a slight drizzle to a pouring storm. He shook his head, his hair flying and water spraying everywhere.

"How much more time do you need?" he shouted. His eyelashes were framed with glittering raindrops, and when he turned back to face her, his irises were darker than before.

Hermione's hair was flat against her scalp, and her clothes were soaked in rainwater. Water dripped from her skin, and she stomped her foot childishly. "As much time as I need! You said that you'd wait for me!"

"I have no choice, now, do I? I get weaker every day that you need to think!"

"You have no choice?" Hermione snarled. "Is that what it all comes to? You have no choice but to be tied to me. Me, a filthy mudblood! Oh, the pain!" She suddenly froze. "You didn't tell me about the letter to Snape until weeks later when I was actually in pain!"

Draco narrowed his eyes into stormy grey slits that matched the clouds in the sky.

"You didn't want to let me know about the antidote because the curse would push me to mate with you!" she hissed, realization in her eyes. "I would stop suffering the effects if I mated with you, so when you found the letter, you didn't want me to know that I had a way out! You only let me know about it after I felt the pain because _you _feel the pain."

Draco clenched his fists. "True, I didn't tell you about it at first. However, I told you about the antidote because _we _couldn't bear the pain any longer. I couldn't see you suffer––"

"––without suffering yourself. You're nothing but a _selfish, deceiving, jerk!"_

"_I couldn't see you suffer because I care about you!" _he bellowed, a rumbling roar of thunder punctuating his sentence. "I'm a Slytherin, not a bloody Gryffindor!"

Hermione lunged forward and slapped him harshly, a red handprint blooming on his pale cheek. "You're a Slytherin, and Slytherins deceive and lie. Deidre was right. I can never trust you. Stay _away _from me!" she shrieked before turning around, running towards the cottage. Tears mixed with the rainwater, and she slipped slightly, only to be pulled up by Draco.

_Deidre was right? What does that mean? _"Hermione––"

"Don't call me that!" she hollered, stumbling away from him. "You… you…"

Draco caught her flailing arms and held her with an iron-strong grip so that she couldn't run away. The breath that he let out was a ragged one.

"We'll be back in one week's time," he said quietly, forcing her to listen. "Please… stay at Shell Cottage, and _don't leave." _

"What are you talking about?" Hermione demanded, struggling against his arms, but her efforts were futile.

"One week, Hermione," he whispered. "Remember… _stay here… _please, be safe…"

Hermione halted in her fight against him when she heard the serious tone in his voice. She looked up at him, only to be transfixed by his startlingly silver eyes. "What…?"

Draco fought the urge to kiss those lips as she stared up at him, and instead, he planted a kiss on her forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. _Veelas would rather be far away from their mates if it meant that it would keep them safe, _he had said. He trembled with contradicting emotions as he lightly brushed his fingers across her cheeks, staring into her cider-colored eyes.

He murmured something under his breath, and she suddenly stiffened before falling backwards, unable to move her limbs. Draco caught her reflexively and lowered her to the muddy ground.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "The Body Bind will undo itself in a couple of minutes. Potter, Weasley, and I will be back with the antidote. Don't worry, Potter and Weasley won't be harmed." He said those words bitterly, as if he knew that she wouldn't care if he were hurt.

Hermione's eyes glared at him.

"I can't have you get hurt," Draco murmured. "Not again. Potter and Weasley agreed that you should stay here. I promise that we'll be back soon. I'm sorry… so sorry for lying. I won't ever lie again. I won't leave you behind ever, ever again… unless it's for your safety…" He knew that he was rambling and stalling for time. He was stalling for more time with his mate… he was going to leave her for a week… an entire week…

Draco took a deep breath. "Please, please, be safe," he pled, kissing her forehead one more time before standing up and turning around. He forced himself not to look back.

**Author's Notes: **In case you didn't get the end, Draco, Harry, and Ron plotted to keep Hermione at Shell Cottage for her safety while they went to Spinner's End. Fleur's accent was done to the best of my ability… it is not meant to offend anyone. The translations are below. Please, please, _please _review!

_weel: will_

_zis: this_

'_ouse: house_

_ze: the_

'_ermione: Hermione_

'_im: him_

'_is: his_

'_e: he_

_leesten: listen_


	15. Stolen Scarves

**Author's Notes: **Aren't you all so glad that it's summertime and I actually update more than once a month? YEAH. Actually, my profanity filter went berserk with everyone saying 'Hermione's going to be so pissed off' in their reviews… one reviewer mentioned that Ron was an 'asshole' (which really got me laughing… courtesy of _SnowCharms) _and I just want to say that I _bloody love you guys. _Thank you for all your words of encouragement, and _do _review this chappie!

Anyone have a Pottermore account? I'm DraconisCrimson.

_Reviewers: CreativeWriterInSpace, SharpestSatire, cazares.a, Draco's Veela Mate, Lost O'Fallon Girl, Panther Eyes, poisoned blood, CherryPepsi-Faylese, edwardsoneandonlylove, Loslote, learn to dance in the rain, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, Penguin Splash, Mugglebornsrule, marmia days, aleeyXD, CC, miss quirky bookworm, SnowCharms, SakuraHasGreenEyes, Yuri no Kimi, Cissi418, AreYouSirius-questionmark, RachelRaeDarkness, midnight shadow of darkness, XxTearsInTheRainxX _

_Shout-out to Panther Eyes: _Thank you for your review! The whole Snape story is so incredibly complex and emotional. He is such a complicated character, and he's the person who you hate all the way until the end, and, by the time you realize how much he's sacrificed, he's dead. I adore Neville (:

O

She couldn't bloody believe it.

Harry. Ron. _Draco. _How could they just leave her here, at Shell Cottage? How could Harry and Ron, her best friends, side with Draco_ Malfoy_ and leave her behind when they _knew _that she wanted to go? The antidote was for _her: _she ought to be there to get it, at least!

In _her _humble opinion, Harry and Ron had always needed her to be there. She was always the logical one, the one who did the quick thinking and the problem solving. Why would they replace her with _Malfoy? _What happened to Harry and Ron's distrust of Slytherins, especially Malfoy? As for Draco, what happened to 'Veelas don't like to be apart from their mates'?

If Hermione could've shivered from lying in the cold, pelting rain, she would've done so. Because Shell Cottage was near the water, the conditions were usually rather humid and temperate, but the water and wind combination made it _cold._ She was soaked to the bone: her hair was plastered on her forehead, and her clothes clung to her body. She was going to get hypothermia because of that stupid Veela.

However, instead of just leaving her to lie there and wait out the minutes, Draco had obviously planned ahead. A moment later, Luna was skipping towards her, the mud squishing and squelching under Luna's knee-high purple (with lime green polka dots) rain boots.

"_Finite Incantatem," _Luna said dreamily, swishing her wand vaguely in Hermione's direction.

Hermione immediately began shivering when the Body Bind was lifted, and, when she stood up, Luna quickly handed her a fluffy blue towel. She waved her wand again, and the mud that covered Hermione's back disappeared.

"Th-Thanks, Luna," Hermione chattered, wrapping the towel tightly around her body. She bent her head and slipped under Luna's muggle umbrella, following the girl towards the cottage. Her first priority was to get warm and dry. Then, she would shout her throat hoarse with curses and insults.

O

Hermione stood in the boys' empty room. Harry had neatly folded up his comforter and blankets while Ron's bed was an unmade mess: his pillows were stuffed between the bed and the wall, and his bedspread was haphazardly thrown over the mattress. After taking a hot shower, changing into dry clothes, and having a nice hot chocolate, the anger inside of her rose again, rearing its ugly head and slashing its merciless claws.

"What happened to the 'Golden Trio'?" Hermione whispered, her hands clenching into fists. She began shaking. "What happened to always sticking together? What happened to always having each other's backs?" With every question, her voice became louder and angrier.

"What happened to always being _truthful _to each other?" She demanded, and though she knew that she would get no answer, the fury within her was beginning to simmer and boil. "Is this what it is? Use Hermione to plan and then skip off together for an adventure?" Hermione grabbed a glass vase that was conveniently set on the small table next to her and threw it, feeling a sick satisfaction as it crashed and shattered into a million sparkling pieces against the wall.

Just like her heart.

How _could _they? "_I'm not weak!" _Hermione shouted, and another vase was reduced to nothing but glittery shards. "I don't need protection!" _Smash. _"I don't need _you _to protect me!" _Crunch. _"I don't need such _liars _as friends!" _Thunk. _

"Hermione––" This was Fleur's soft voice, and Hermione willed for the woman to leave; Hermione didn't want to snap something at the woman that she would later regret.

"No, let her purify herself of the Wrackspurts. They're making her brain go all fuzzy, and to get rid of them, she should let out her true emotions," Luna said distantly, taking Fleur's arm and leading her down the hall, talking about how her Spectrespecs would've helped her see the Wrackspurts.

Hermione kicked the wooden frame of Ron's bed in frustration, and, suddenly, she was hopping up and down, clutching her toe and groaning in pain. She fell onto his bed, still gripping her right foot, and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the lash of pain to diminish.

Tears burned behind her closed eyelids, and her throat was choked up, but she willed herself not to cry. She was stronger than that… Hermione screamed into Ron's blankets, pounding at the mattress with her small fists.

"You–" _pound _"stupid–" _pound _"_idiots_!" _punch. _She curled up into a small ball, burying her face into her knees and hiding behind a curtain of frizzy, wild hair. She stayed like that for a moment, inhaling and exhaling sharply and trying to calm her angry, pounding heart.

Hermione took a shuddering breath and released her foot, collapsing backwards onto Ron's bed and staring up at the plain ceiling.

"How could you, Harry?" Hermione whispered, her voice breaking on the 'y' in 'Harry'. "After everything we've been through? And Ron, after apologizing and promising to never leave me, you plan with Harry and Draco to make me stay behind? And Draco…" Hermione swallowed her tears, remembering their argument. She never finished her sentence, mostly because she didn't know what to say. The Gryffindor sat up, her hair even messier than usual. Hermione bit her lip and stared at the mess surrounding her: the shattered glass, wooden splinters, and knocked over tables were all her doing.

"_Reparo,"_ Hermione murmured, and the glass shards recollected and formed vases and other decorations. Slowly, she stood up, feeling as if she were a fragile china doll.

_But I'm not fragile, _she thought fiercely. _I can fight my own battles. _Panting slightly, Hermione made her way across the room, the boys' betrayal weighing heavily on her mind.

She exited the room and prepared to make her way towards the kitchen, where she supposed Fleur would be, and apologize. However, a half-open door caught her eye, and she pushed the wooden door open to reveal a small bedroom. It was immaculately clean and tidy, and when she walked over to the twin-sized bed, she could smell his cologne.

_Draco's _cologne.

It was an expensive, rich, and woodsy scent that she found quite pleasant and fitting for the arrogant Draco Malfoy. She stiffened slightly. This _scent… _it reminded her of everything. Memories pertaining to Draco. Burying her head in his chest when she was in pain. Running from Malfoy Manor. Running and hiding in the forest.

"The Wrackspurts have cleared somewhat," a dreamy voice remarked from behind her. Hermione turned around to see Luna standing at the doorway, twirling a lock of her dirty blonde hair in her small hands.

Hermione offered a weak smile at the eccentric girl.

"He does care for you," Luna said mistily, a distant smile on her face. "He cares for you a lot. He loves you."

Hermione started at that. "W-Who?"

"Draco," the blonde girl answered pleasantly. "It's impressive for him to feel such strong emotions, don't you think?"

"I––" Hermione stammered, blushing slightly. "Draco can't possibly love me, Luna. He barely knows me. Veela magic can't create true love."

Luna arched a delicate eyebrow. "You think?" she asked vaguely. "Perhaps he knows more and cares more about you than he lets on. His eyes… it gives him away. Say, Hermione, would you like to find some Freshwater Plimpies with me? I think that Fleur would enjoy some Plimpy soup."

Taken aback by the sudden subject change, Hermione blinked, surprised. "Luna, Plimpies don't live in seawater."

Luna gazed at her, her silvery grey eyes holding some type of foreign power within them. Hermione was suddenly reminded of Draco's grey eyes –– his eyes were usually dark and stormy, but the strange, animal-like aura that she felt around him was just as odd as Luna's own eccentric magic.

After a staring contest that Luna won, the two girls left and went fishing for Freshwater Plimpies, in which Hermione was still convinced did not live in seawater. She stared half-heartedly at the waves, her heart heavy and laden with her concern for the boys and her anger for being deceived. The rain had stopped, but the air was cool, and the spray of seawater was soothing. She thought of what Luna had said. Did Draco already love her because he was a Veela? Hermione stared out at the horizon. She knew that she didn't love him. She _couldn't _love him. But that didn't mean that she wanted him to die.

It wasn't until Luna finally conceded that Plimpies did not like the aura of Shell Cottage did they go back inside.

O

Draco sighed quietly as he paced back in forth in the tent. The three of them had set up the tent in a nearby forest that was a short walk away from Spinner's End, and it was Potter who set the protective spells and wards.

It had surprised him how easily Potter and Weasley had agreed to his plan to keep Hermione back at Shell Cottage. He had crept into their room in the middle of the night, and though two wands were immediately pointed at him threateningly, Draco had managed to explain his plan before they decided to hex him into the next century. Potter and Weasley had, at first, thought that he was trying to trick them, and they were dubious about the plan.

What surprised Draco the most was that Weasley was the one who sided with him first.

After a full five minutes of trying to convince Potter and Weasley that no, he wasn't trying to lure them out and kill them, and no, he didn't want to isolate Hermione and kill her when they weren't there (those idiots, he's a _Veela, _he wouldn't ever harm Hermione!), Weasley had sided with him and said that Hermione should stay at Shell Cottage just in case Lucius' curse acted up and harmed her. It was quite easy to win Potter over after that, though it took some more persuasion for them to give Draco his wand back. However, after planning with the other two, Draco realized something else.

Weasley was going to be a problem.

Weasley cared for Hermione too much. While Draco was sure that Potter only loved Hermione as a brother would love a sister, Weasley was an entirely different issue. Ronald Weasley seemed to love her in a different way, and this bothered Draco to no end.

Draco lifted Hermione's stolen scarf to his nose and inhaled her floral, feminine scent. If he wasn't going to see her for a week, he'd have to live off her smell.

The thought of not seeing her for such a long period caused his heart to wrench painfully. He didn't know if he could make it through the week… his Veela side was becoming much more persistent as time went on, and it was getting harder to leave her side and resist marking her as his own.

Draco remembered their argument, and he wondered if he really stood a chance. Hermione was too stubborn… she was _much _too stubborn to give into any notion of loving him unless she was given years… but he didn't have the time for years. He had weeks, months, possibly.

What had she said about Deidre?

_Deidre was right. I can never trust you._

Draco turned around and walked to the other side of the tent. Weasley and Potter were talking outside, probably discussing him.

_Deidre was right; Deidre was right. I can never trust you… _

He remembered how she lied to him when he asked her what Deidre had said to her in private. He also remembered that, just that very night, she had woken up from a nightmare, a nightmare about him being just like the Dark Lord…

_Deidre_. Draco narrowed his eyes, and, even in his mind, he thought of the woman's name bitterly. She must've lied to Hermione… she must've warned Hermione of him…

But why?

Draco ran his fingers through his blonde hair. If Deidre lied to Hermione, she must've been trying to keep the two of them apart. That means that she was essentially trying to kill him… and if she was trying to kill him…

_Deidre had to be in cahoots with Voldemort. _

There was no other reason. The Dark Lord was merciless when it came to traitors, and Draco knew that he was one, seeing as he grabbed Hermione and ran. You-Know-Who would do whatever he could to get hold of Draco and kill him, but, in the case that Voldemort never got hold of him, they could still kill him by keeping his mate away.

What else had Deidre lied about?

_The Thousand Array. She said that the Thousand Array was in China. _Draco furrowed his eyebrows and massaged his temples. The Thousand Array itself was confusing. How could Voldemort be after both the Elder Wand and the Thousand Array at once? He didn't _need _both, especially since he had his horcruxes.

"Malfoy!" Potter ducked his head into the tent. "We're going to go sweep the area. Coming?"

Draco stared at Potter for a moment, eyes impenetrable, before nodding. Weasley joined them, and Ron and Draco both cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves while Harry slipped under his invisibility cloak. They slipped out of the wards in tense silence.

"Snape will have several complex and dark wards around his house; it'll be hard to break them. However, he won't have any Death Eater stationed around the area: he hates having 'guards'," Draco finally spoke up as the forest melted away and became pavement.

"Do you know how to break them?" Potter asked, his voice coming out of thin air.

Draco shook his head, only to remember that he was invisible. "Not exactly, no. However, I have some experience with wards, and I may be able to break them after some time."

"So the plan remains the same," Harry said. "We get a detailed idea of the area and the magic involved. Because it's a muggle place, we'll have to be careful with the use of magic. In five days, your father will come to collect the potion, and it should be on that day that the potion is finally finished."

Draco heard someone stumble, and he assumed that it was Weasley.

"He finishes potions on the day that he needs to hand it in?" Ron sounded incredulous. "I thought he was strict."

"Snape wants to give it to my father when the potion is fresh," Draco rolled his eyes. "Use your brains, Weasley. An old potion needs to be replaced, and this potion is probably one that has a short expiration date."

Harry ignored the two. "Pettigrew will be there," he spat bitterly.

"Yes. The Dark Lord ordered Pettigrew to serve Snape as a reward for Snape killing Dumbledore," Draco said quietly. He remembered the night on the Astronomy Tower clearly, and judging by the tense silence, it was obvious that Potter did as well.

Draco slowed down, and Potter slipped a hand out of the invisibility cloak to motion Ron to do so as well. They had reached Spinner's End. There was nothing special with the street; in fact, it was exactly like all of the streets around them: it was lined with deserted brick houses and broken streetlamps, and the pavement was dirt-covered and cracking. They could spy a dirty river situated towards the left side, as well as an abandoned mill with a tall chimney.

It was obvious that the inhabitants of Spinner's End were not wealthy. The windows that they passed were grimy, and they could hardly see through them. Barely anyone walked on the street, and it was narrow enough to be called an alley.

The last house on Spinner's End was Snape's house. It was a two-story house that was barely different from its neighbors: the brick siding was darkening with age, the dark wooden door was losing its paint, and blinds covered his filthy windows.

There was a hum of powerful magic in the air, and the three of them just stared at the house for a moment. Draco spoke first, once again.

"_Cave Inimicum _and the Intruder Charm_: _both charms that alerts the caster of intruders. _Fianto Duri: _a charm that physically keeps people from entering. Muggle-Repelling Charm. _Protego totalum: _forms a protective bubble or shield_. Repello inimigotum: _protects a place from enemies. _Salvio hexia: _protects against hexes," Draco listed, drifting his wand over the area. "That's all that I can sense. Luckily, he hasn't placed the Fidelius Charm over it, or else we'll never get in."

"Do you know how to get past these?" Harry spoke up.

"Not quite," Draco said quietly, "and you should be glad that I can't, because if I could, that means that the Death Eaters can get past your wards."

Ron shuffled his feet. "We should've brought some Polyjuice Potion and pretended to be Snape. We could call Pettigrew out and he'd let us in."

"We're low on Polyjuice Potion," Harry contradicted. "The little bit that we have will be used for our trip to Gringotts."

"And unless you keep my godfather's hair and nail clippings in your pocket all day, Weasley, Polyjuice Potion is no help," Draco sneered. He passed his wand over the area once again, lights flashing whenever he got too close to the protective bubble. "We'll have to enter the same time my father enters. It'll be risky, but that's the only way we can get in."

O

When Hermione went down to the kitchen to find Fleur and apologize for destroying (and repairing) some vases in her tantrum, she was stunned to find Bill, Fleur, and Molly Weasley sitting solemnly around the circular table. Luna, looking unusually anxious, was leaning against the doorway.

"Oh, Hermione, dear," Molly immediately stood up and strode over to the girl, enveloping her in a huge embrace. Hermione tentatively hugged the woman back, wondering what was wrong.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked, eyes wide. The plump woman had not released her yet, and Hermione could feel her shoulders trembling.

"I'm so glad that you're all right," Molly sniffed, finally releasing Hermione from her warm grasp. Mrs. Weasley's bright brown eyes were filled with tears, and Bill walked up behind his mother, massaging her shoulders and pushing her to sit.

Hermione was immediately alert. "What happened?"

But her question was drowned out by a sob from Mrs. Weasley, and Bill, his scarred face grim, patted her shaking back. Fleur grabbed a tissue, and, in that rare moment, Molly Weasley suddenly grasped her daughter-in-law and hugged her, crying about how Fleur was a part of the family too.

"Oh, dear," Molly took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm… I'm such a mess." She looked around, as if expecting someone. "Where are Ron and Harry?"

Hermione stepped forward. "They're on a mission, Mrs. Weasley. I was separated from Harry and Ron in the forest, and I was taken to Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy helped me get out, and I was hit with a curse. When we reunited, Harry, Ron, and Draco left to get the antidote at Spinner's End, but they forced me to stay here." She said the last bit resentfully.

"Draco… Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "I'm sure that Harry and Ron will be all right… we planned for days…"

Molly nodded quickly. "I… I know, dear. I know that they will be fine." She sounded as if she was convincing herself of that.

"What happened, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione whispered, afraid that the woman would burst into tears again.

Molly took a shuddering breath. "It's Ginny, dear," she said softly. "She… The Death Eaters… oh, I know that I should've kept Ginny at the Burrow even after Christmas vacation… I've heard from friends that it's happened to them too… I knew that I should've… the signs were clear… But I didn't…"

"Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, Hermione, they took Ginny!"

**Author's Notes: **Haha, yes, I'm going to stop right there! Next chapter: one person will be betrayed, one person isn't how they seem, and one person will remember who they really are. Do review!


	16. Spinner's End

**Author's Notes: **I have the need to express my unconditional love for you guys, sooo… Roses are red, violets are blue; your reviews make me happy, so comment on this one too! (Aren't I so clever?) But in all seriousness, thank you all for making my… week? Yeah, week! A special mention to _.g-baby, _my 400th reviewer! She also happened to be my 398th reviewer… and my 399th… and 401st… and 402nd… you get my point. Sorry that this update is slightly later for my usual summer update… I was on vacation :D Nope, no shame… maybe some fear… oh, just review (:

_Reviewers: Mugglebornsrule, Panther Eyes, Loslote, AreYouSirius-questionmark, Natalie Field, learn to dance in the rain, SharpestSatire, bearsbeetsbsg, 657, PenguinSplash, edwardsoneandonlylove, toritarxx, DrewSecrets, XxBloodThornxX, curiousbookworm, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, mUmaRhz, midnight shadow of darkness, Oth23, Owlkin, RF, dreamdancer504, SakuraHasGreenEyes, .g-baby (15), Laura, athoshg, RaisingTheCrescendo, Purple-moon02, MeliLuvsNick, Delena-Fan-for-life, ., xxLittleMidgetLeprechaunxx, Sara _

O

Harry, Ron, and Draco patrolled the area for two days, trying to find something interesting enough to note. However, nothing happened. Once in a while, they saw Snape's sallow face peering out of the dirty windows, but he never had any visitors at his house.

Draco found that the more time he spent away from Hermione, the more he depended on her scarf to keep him sane. The first day passed all right, and though he had trouble sleeping at night, it wasn't anything too much different than the sleepless nights Draco had had ever since he had discovered that he was a Veela.

The next morning, he woke up feeling irritated. Harry and Ron, who had slept with their wands under their pillow out of fear that Draco would attack them in the dead of night, had decided to make him find his own breakfast while they chomped on colorful bits of cereal. Angry and hungry, he had nearly blasted them halfway around the world if not for a small, nagging voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's warning him that doing so wouldn't gain their trust. Instead, he _accio_'d another box of cereal (oh, how he loved when they cringed in fright when he raised his wand) and, without another word, left to eat outside.

Unfortunately, that day was also filled with Weasley's incessant whining about being bored and wanting a warm meal as well as Potter's endless pacing, which was making Draco dizzy. Annoyed, Malfoy had _silencio_'d Weasley, which, much to Draco's delight, paused Potter's pacing and actually gained Potter's temporary vote of approval. They took turns jeering at the tomato-red Ronald Weasley (though Draco's sneers were much harsher, and Harry ended up defending Ron when Draco went too far with his insults, which, of course, led to a monumental argument).

That night was worse. Draco tossed and turned, only to discover that he couldn't, absolutely _couldn't, _fall asleep. The next morning, he was more exhausted than ever, and he even lasted through Weasley's whining without doing a thing about it. And Potter, saintly Potter, obviously wouldn't lift a finger against his precious Gryffindor.

O

When Mrs. Weasley left the household in tears, silence filled Shell Cottage. Bill stared, unseeingly, out the window, and he didn't even acknowledge Fleur when she placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"She will be rescued, you know," Luna said softly. She cocked her head to once side. Darkness had fallen, and her hair glinted and glowed like a halo around her face.

Bill finally looked away from the window to focus his eyes on the eccentric girl.

"You know that Harry, Ron, and Hermione won't just sit here," Luna smiled, her eyes rolling upwards to gaze dreamily at the ceiling. "Ginny will be rescued soon."

For once, Hermione completely agreed with Luna. As long as some strange rubbish wasn't pouring out of that girl's mouth, Luna was incredibly perceptive and wise, which was the reason why she was sorted into Ravenclaw in the first place. "We ought to go rescue Ginny now," Hermione stated.

Bill cleared his throat, which was slightly hoarse from held-back tears. "I… We can't risk losing more of us."

"But for Ginny?" Hermione pressed, folding her arms across her chest. "We have to find her, the sooner, the better. The faster we get to her, the less she will be tortured."

Bill looked hesitant, though there was a longing in his eyes. "Ginny," he whispered, tracing random lines on the wooden table. "She's strong, but…" he took a deep breath. "She's strong, but she's young. She's too young to suffer. However, we have no idea where she is located. Ginny could be anywhere." The 'cool' air that Hermione had thought was always around him was replaced with a serious demeanor.

Hermione was quiet for a moment, and she turned to face Luna, as if expecting a clear answer in those silver eyes. Luna gazed back serenely. The Gryffindor bit her lip, thinking.

"There should be clues," Hermione said slowly. "The point of the Death Eaters capturing Ginny is that they expect someone to go and rescue her. They expect to catch the rescuers as well, thereby capturing two birds with one stone."

"Then we shouldn't rescue her. It's a carefully laid trap," Bill shook his head. "Hermione, you are a powerful witch, but you cannot hope to escape the Death Eaters' clutches for the third time. We cannot depend on luck."

Luna blinked her protuberant eyes that made her look as if permanently surprised. "They won't kill Ginny, then."

"They'll torture her. For information."

Hermione agitatedly pulled on her frizzy hair. "But Ginny doesn't know anything."

"She knows enough," Bill stood, putting a protective arm around Fleur. His protective wolf instincts seemed to have kicked in after Ginny's capture. "To protect the Order, we should rescue her. However, we risk even more information being leaked if we get caught as well."

Hermione sighed. She knew that he was right. If Voldemort found out that she, Harry, Ron, and Draco were hunting for the last two horcruxes, he would be furious, and they would have no chance of finding and destroying them if he relocated the horcruxes. Bill, as an official member of the Order, knew inside information about each person in the Order of the Phoenix. And Luna… well, Luna was Luna, and Hermione wasn't planning on allowing her to wander into the Death Eaters' ranks alone.

"If Harry knew that Ginny is caught, he would break down," Hermione said quietly. "He loves Ginny, and he'll stop at nothing to keep her safe. He's reckless. No, we should rescue Ginny before they come back."

"Before they come back?" Bill's eyes widened in surprise.

Luna lightly tiptoed forward, as if a graceful ballerina. She stared at Hermione for a moment. "You want revenge," she said distantly, not quite looking at Hermione anymore, despite how her eyes were fixed on the Gryffindor. "They left you on a mission, so you want to leave them."

"I…" Hermione recoiled. "Of course not!" She wanted to ensure Harry's safety! Didn't they understand? Harry, who had gone straight to the Department of Mysteries after he dreamt about Sirius being tortured by Voldemort, was bound to do something idiotic if he knew that they had taken Ginny. Surely they understand this logic?

However, a small part of her agreed with Luna. She had felt so _angry _when they left without her. Did she want revenge on them for simply leaving like that? Was she biased in her decision to leave Harry, Ron, and Draco behind?

"Draco would be angry," Luna said pleasantly. "Extremely angry. He misses you already. He is hurting without you."

Hermione felt a blush rise up her cheeks when she heard these words. She felt Fleur's penetrating stare on her; Fleur would know all about being a Veela, she supposed. Fleur would side with Draco, therefore siding with Harry and Ron, because, as a Veela, she would never want to part with Bill. Therefore, she knew that Draco wouldn't want Hermione wandering off to the Death Eaters without him, no matter what.

"You need ze anteedote," Fleur spoke up. "Zat iz why zey left. We must wait unteel zey come back."

"But… But Harry…"

"Harry weel live," Fleur snapped. She placed her hands on her hips, a movement that scarily reminded Hermione of Mrs. Weasley. "Zey are reesking zeir lives for you. We stay."

"We can't afford for a pain attack while rescuing Ginny," Bill conceded, placing a gentle kiss on Fleur's forehead. Apparently, Fleur's decision had completely effected his own. "We stay," he echoed.

O

Draco's head hurt. No, that was an understatement. His head _burned. _He felt as if fire was blazing through his veins and daggers were piercing into his skull. Zaps shook his body, and a spasm travelled through him, bringing pain.

He wondered if Weasley, who was standing guard outside, heard him. Suddenly, the fiery burns were gone, and Draco let out a gasp, for suddenly, he felt empty. Just like that. _Gone. _

He grabbed the rough blankets and pulled it around himself tightly. Now, he felt cold… alone. Frosty tendrils of ice curled itself around him, making him shiver, and, when he closed his eyes, he could see nothing but a locked, empty room. Alone. It felt as if a dementor had just entered the tent, sucking out the life and happiness of its occupants. How could Weasley and Potter not feel it?

Draco picked up Hermione's scarf from his pillow and pressed it to his nose. He had begun sleeping with it under his head to ease the strange loneliness isolating him from the world.

"Harry?" This was Weasley's voice, and he sounded hesitant. He had evidently heard Draco's gasp.

_No, Weasley. Turn around and go back to guarding the tent. Now. _Draco would be damned if he ever let _anyone _see him in this weak position, especially _Weasel. _His body trembled violently, making the bed squeak, and he let out another gasp of pain.

The tent's flap was roughly pushed to the side, and the silhouette of Ron's tall and lanky body was highlighted in the moonlight. His famous Weasley-red hair looked brown, and he held a lit wand in his hand.

"_Malfoy?" _

"I swear, Weasley, if you don't get out right n––" Draco abruptly doubled over, burying his pale face in his knees. There was a cold emptiness in his chest, and he desperately clutched Hermione's scarf tighter, his groan muffled by the material.

"Malfoy! What… What's happening?" Loud footsteps made their way towards Draco, and Draco hissed. If Ron was any louder––

"What's wrong?" Potter had immediately dashed into the 'room', his black hair much more disheveled than usual. Green eyes flashed in the darkness. Potter was poised for a fight.

Weasley immediately sprinted to his best mate's side. "There's something wrong with Malfoy!"

"What? He––"

"_Shut up!" _Draco shouted, pressing his hands to his ears. "Shut up, _now, _you blubbering idiots!" The excessive sound was thundering on his eardrums, and it increased the pain by two-fold. He grit his teeth and fought the want to bash his head against the wooden floor.

"Malfoy––"

"Get out."

He could nearly hear Potter and Weasley exchanging dumb glances at each other.

"I said, _get out."_

"This isn't _your tent,_ Malfoy," Potter said, and Draco couldn't focus enough to hear if Potter was angry, calm, or mocking.

Breathing rapidly, Draco forcibly uncurled himself from fetal position, still clutching Hermione's scarf. He grabbed the edge of the bed and, shaking all the while, tried to stand. His legs, however, felt like jell-o, and he crumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Potter, ever the hero, moved to help him up, but Draco spat at him, angered. He was _not _weak. Clenching his fist around the edge of the bed, he pushed himself up, leaning heavily on the bed. A cold fist wrapped around his chest, not literally, but it felt as if.

"What's going on, Malfoy?" Potter was now standing in front of him, thick eyebrows furrowed. His wand was pointed at him.

"Like I would ever tell _you, _Potter," Draco snarled, his wand suddenly appearing in his hand. He pointed it at Harry. He would never admit it to them… no, he would never tell them this particular weakness… ever…

Harry narrowed his green eyes, which were beginning to blaze with determination. "Did you get struck by the same spell that hurt Hermione?"

Draco's eyes darkened. "I'm warning you, Potter––"

"_Did you?" _

"No!"

"Did someone curse you?"

"For heavens' sake, Potter, _no!" _

"Did––"

Draco growled menacingly, making Harry falter in his interrogation. Ron was immediately by his side, wand up.

"I can't be this far from Granger, all right? It's been too long, and I'm weakening. Happy?"

A stunned silence followed, and Draco gnashed his teeth in frustration. There goes the plan to never admit to a weakness.

"It's… It's because of _Hermione?" _Ron whispered, eyes wide in surprise. His wand was already lowering.

"Go away."

"But––"

"Come on, Ron. Leave him alone," Harry said quietly, tugging on Weasley's arm. Ron stared at Harry incredulously, but he allowed himself to be pulled out of the tent. Draco fell back onto the bed, burying his face into the blankets. For once, he was grateful for Potter. If the two had stayed within cursing vicinity for another _second… _

The coldness inside of him had subsided, but his longing for Hermione was still there, lingering. He could still feel the icy snakes slithering in his bloodstream, waiting for a moment to strike. Thank Merlin that his father would come tomorrow, for he would finally be able to get the antidote and see Hermione again.

O

When Draco forced himself to get up the next day, he was greeted by a wary silence at the table. Weasley's eyes kept on flickering towards him, as if expecting him to drop dead any moment, and Potter's eyes were fixed stubbornly on his bowl of cereal.

Two or three days ago, Draco would've given anything for this blissful silence. Now, he just wanted Weasley to go blabber off about some useless thing because the tension around the table was suffocating. He nearly sighed in relief when they finished breakfast and trudged outside towards Spinner's End.

The air was still relatively cool, for it was still morning, but the days were gradually warming up. The sky was cloudy, and the softest of breezes swept through the small spaces in between the houses.

"Up here," Draco whispered, loud enough so that Potter and Weasley could tell exactly where he was standing. They were all invisible, which made it hard to tell when one of them stopped or turned. As quietly as they could, they levitated each other onto the roof of the house (Harry levitated both Draco and Ron first, and then, once they were standing firmly on the roof, Ron levitated Harry because Harry, under no circumstances, trusted Draco to lift him a couple feet off the ground and resist the temptation of dropping him).

The three of them, still invisible, clattered their way across the roof towards Snape's house, the last house on Spinner's End. They stood at the edge, waiting for Lucius Malfoy to arrive.

After five minutes of waiting, they heard a distant _crack _of Apparition, and, after another minutes, the tall and powerful figure of Lucius Malfoy appeared. His long, expensive black robes trailed behind him as he stalked confidently towards Snape's house. Cold, grey eyes surveyed the area with disdain, obviously wondering why Snape lived in this 'muggle filth'. Surprisingly, he did not have his signature walking stick with him, and there was a curious air of nervousness, only detected by Draco, who knew his father so well.

Snape immediately opened the door the moment he saw Lucius, and, when Draco felt the wards melt, he quickly whispered, _"Now!" _and pushed open the closest window of Snape's second floor. Nimbly, he leapt through the opening and vaulted into the small room, which looked unused and dusty. Ron and Harry fell through the window with less skill, and Draco had to silence the room so that Snape did not hear the thud of falling people on his second floor.

"You idiots," Draco mumbled under his breath, and he heard Weasley's indignant hiss of reply.

"Shut it, you two." Potter slipped the invisibility cloak off of his head, so that, if an outsider were to suddenly barge into the room, they'd see Harry Potter's floating head and neck. Bright green eyes surveyed the room carefully: it was a barely-furnished room that only contained an old, wooden desk and a bookcase that held only five leather books. There was a closet door off to the right side, and, suddenly, the door swung open and––

"_Accio wands!" _a squeaky voice cried, and three wands zoomed to his side before Draco, Harry, and Ron could react.

Wormtail was standing outside the closet, his silver hand clutching the three wands. Watery eyes stared at them in surprise, and his other hand was gripping his own wand, which was aimed at Harry.

Pettigrew looked… pitiful. The Dark Lord obviously had not awarded him with anything else other than the silver hand, for his skin was as pallid and wrinkled as ever. His wispy strands of grey hair glinted in the daylight.

"_Finite Incantatem," _he whispered, and Draco and Ron's Disillusionment charms melted off of their body.

"You," Harry hissed, slipping the invisibility cloak fully off of his body. While Draco and Ron's eyes flickered to the doorway in fear, Harry's eyes pooled with anger and hatred. Draco was now immensely grateful that he had cast a Silencing spell on the room.

Pettigrew, despite being in possession of four wands, shook as he met Harry's scorching green glare.

"I… I've got your wand," Wormtail tried to threaten. However, when his voice trembled with fear, the threat seemed like nothing.

"You betrayed my parents," Harry snarled. He began advancing on Pettigrew, like a lion stalking a rat. He glowered at him with fury.

Arm shaking, Wormtail raised his wand and aimed at Harry, who immediately froze in surprise.

"I… I will do it," Wormtail croaked. "For the Dark Lord. You… You will die."

"You owe me," Harry said slowly, though his anger was barely concealed. Every word from his lips seemed to drop like a thousand heavy bricks. "I saved your life. You owe me."

For a single moment, Pettigrew hesitated. Instead of cursing Harry, he accidentally lowered his wand. Pettigrew's eyes widened, and the three wands in his silver hand clattered as it landed on the wooden floor. For a moment, there was silence, and Harry, Ron, and Draco stared, incredulous, at the Dark Lord's most cowardly servant. However, when Pettigrew's watery eyes widened and the silver hand began moving towards his throat…

"No!" Harry shouted, grabbing the hand. He pulled at it, but it was much too strong. Lord Voldemort's reward to Wormtail was now punishing him for the moment of hesitation, of betrayal…

Ron was by Harry's side, pulling on the silver hand, but it did not stop on its path to Wormtail's throat. When the fingers clasped around his neck, it did not stop. When the fingers squeezed and purple spread over Pettigrew's face, it did not stop. Only until Pettigrew dropped dead with a concluding _thud _did the hand release its hold on who had seemed to be his master.

"We've got to move on," Draco said, his face void of emotion. He bent down and picked up the three wands, handing two back to Potter and Weasley. He glanced at the dead body for a second, no pity in the grey depths of his eyes, and removed the Silencing charm.

Potter and Weasley shook themselves out of their identical states of shock and nodded quickly, their fleeting eyes resting on Wormtail for another second before following Draco out of the room and into the hallway. Harry ducked back under his invisibility cloak while Ron and Draco recast the Disillusionment charm on themselves, and they wordlessly _silencio_'d their feet so that Snape and Lucius wouldn't hear their footsteps on the creaking stairs.

"––vial of the antidote," they heard Snape saying. They crept down the stairs and towards the sitting room, where Snape and Lucius were talking.

"You are positive that the antidote would work?" Lucius asked, and they heard the faint clink of glass.

"Of course," Snape answered coldly. "If you doubt my abilities, Lucius, you may find another to help brew a more suitable antidote."

There was an uncomfortable shift in the atmosphere, and Lucius cleared his throat, an action that Draco had never heard his father do. "I do not doubt you, Severus," Lucius answered quietly. "I am grateful for your service."

Harry slunk into the room while Ron and Draco waited behind, wands at the ready. Because Disillusionment charms didn't make the person completely invisible (only camouflaged), they had deemed it less risky if Harry were to be the one to get the potion.

The cauldron was placed on a black iron stand, and wisps of smoke were still rising from the clear potion. The cauldron seemed very much out of place in the small and ordinary room: wooden bookshelves lined every wall from the floor to the ceiling, and black and brown leather books were neatly placed on every shelf. A green, leather chair was facing an old-looking sofa, and barely any light filtered in from the window.

Snape was turned away from the cauldron, much to Harry's luck, and was holding a vial of the clear potion. Lucius Malfoy, who wore standard black robes and a travelling cloak, looked strangely uncomfortable, his eyes sweeping the room as if expecting something bad to happen.

Quickly, Harry disillusioned himself and reached into his pocket for the glass vial that he had prepared. Carefully keeping both the cauldron and the two men in sight, he slipped his hand out of his cloak and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it with the potion and then quickly slipping his hand back into his cloak. The glass vial, however, knocked the iron cauldron as he brought it back into his cloak, and the faint _clink _sound made Snape pause in the middle of his sentence.

Heart pounding, Harry slipped the antidote back into his pocket, muffling his breath with one hand. He slowly backed up, making sure to not trip over anything…

Snape turned around slowly, his wand up. He walked towards where Harry had just stood and lightly touched the edge of the cauldron, his obsidian black eyes narrowing as he did.

Pivoting on his foot, Snape looked straight at Harry, not actually seeing him, but still eerily watching the area. He took a step forward, and Harry quickly took a step back, making sure to set his foot down carefully.

"Problem, Severus?" Lucius asked. He was pulling on his travelling cloak, though he curiously hadn't drawn his wand.

Snape turned to face Lucius, much to Harry's relief, and said no. While the two men continued to talk, Harry quickly made his way to where he thought Draco and Ron would be.

"Let's go," Ron murmured, and they stealthily made their way back up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Draco froze.

"We've got to get out of here, _come on," _Ron hissed, grabbing Draco's camouflaged arm and pulling. "_Move." _

Draco immediately reached out and leaned on the railing to stabilize himself as a cold sensation swept through his body. The feeling of being utterly alone returned, and he weakly sat down, much to Ron and Harry's disbelief.

"Get up, Malfoy," Harry whispered urgently. "Get up."

But Draco couldn't. It was horrible, the feeling. Where was she? Where was his mate? Was she safe? A terrible image of Hermione, bloodied and pale on a dungeon floor, flooded his mind, and it was all that he could do to prevent himself from howling in pain at the sight. A gasp escaped his pale lips.

"Malfoy––"

It was quiet downstairs. They heard silent footsteps making their way towards the stairs, and Harry and Ron grabbed Malfoy. They found his arms and hoisted him to his feet, pulling him desperately.

"_Move, _now…"

The footsteps were getting closer, and the floorboards creaked as they dragged Malfoy's body towards the window. They just managed to get themselves into the room when Snape appeared at the bottom of the staircase, black eyes suspicious and his body tense. There was a hollow sound, and they knew that Snape was making his way up the stairs.

"If you don't bloody move now, Hermione will never get the antidote!" Ron hissed, and, suddenly, Draco pulled himself out of the cold corners of his mind and sprang into action. He made his way towards the window and yanked it open, not caring if Snape heard or not. Nimbly, he jumped through and onto the next house's roof, and he heard two thumps of Harry and Ron landing beside him. Snape's footsteps were louder now, and they sprinted across the roof, leaping onto the next roof when they reached the next house.

It wasn't until the fifth house did they dare look back, and when they did, they saw Snape's solitary figure standing by the window that they had escaped through, his jaw clenched and his eyes cold. He surveyed the area, and when he swept past Harry, Ron, and Draco's invisible forms, they all collectively shuddered.

Slowly, they levitated each other onto the ground. They were about to speak when they came upon a strange sight.

Lucius Malfoy, who had just left Snape's house, was running towards another dark alley, warily scanning the area for witnesses. Harry slipped a hand out of his invisibility cloak and motioned to follow the eldest Malfoy, and the three quietly chased after him, one of them uncomfortable with spying on his father.

Glancing around, Lucius slipped the vial of the antidote into his robes, and his face suddenly contorted into a look of pain. They followed him deep into an alley, where the light from the sky was minimal and the dark shadows were eerie and mysterious. As they got closer, they saw his white-blonde hair lengthening, his face thinning, and his skin becoming clear and soft. His eyes, once grey, turned into a blue color…

Narcissa Malfoy was standing before them.

She quickly shrunk her husband's robes to fit her smaller body, and suddenly, it was apparent as to why 'Lucius' Malfoy had looked extremely wary and uncomfortable in Snape's house.

"_Mum?" _Before Harry and Ron could stop him, Draco had undid the Disillusionment charm and rushed towards his mother.

Narcissa's blue eyes widened at the sight of her son. She quickly embraced him when he ran towards him, burying her face into his chest.

"Draco," she whispered, pulling away and cupping his face with her hands. Mrs. Malfoy was slender and shorter than her son, and when she lightly brushed her fingers through his hair, she had to stand on her tiptoes. "Draco." She gazed at him with a fierce kind of love, much to Harry and Ron's surprise.

"Mum," he whispered. "Mum, what are you doing here?"

Narcissa reached inside her robes and pulled out the vial of clear potion. Peering at it, Draco realized that there were glittering golden threads of liquid spiraling majestically inside the antidote.

"I was going to somehow give this to you. For Hermione," Narcissa murmured. She took his hand, and she pressed the glass vial into it. "It's the antidote to the curse that hit her."

"Thank you, Mum," Draco answered. He decided that it wasn't necessary to tell his mother that Potter was currently holding the antidote in his pocket, for he didn't want his mother thinking that she had went through that trouble for nothing.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Narcissa asked, blue eyes shining with concern.

Draco shifted to one foot. "We were looking for the antidote," he said softly.

"With… with Potter and Weasley as well?"

Draco could sense the hesitation in her voice, and he slowly nodded. Seeing his mother made him feel… as if he had changed. Just months ago, he was a proper Malfoy, lounging on luxurious couches, answering to the Dark Lord, and talking with his Slytherin friends. He was cold, Draco admitted. He did not care for anyone outside of his family. He hated Potter for having everything that he didn't. He constantly had a mask over his face to conceal his emotions. He pretended to believe in muggleborns being mudblood filth. He was a lot of things that he wasn't now.

Was he weak, feeling so much emotion? Was he becoming a person that he didn't want to be? In a sense, he felt free: free from doing and believing everything that came out of the Dark Lord's mouth, free from the duties of being a pureblood, _free. _But in a sense, did he feel bound by the Veela's bond to his mate? Did he _want _to be with Hermione, or was it his Veela part to compelled him to protect, care for, and perhaps like her?

For a moment, he panicked. Had his Veela counterpart changed him so much that he wasn't recognizable anymore? Had his Veela side destroyed everything that he truly was and replaced it with only something that it thought would please his mate?

When he stared into his mother's anxious eyes, he saw himself reflected in them, his face troubled, but still looking the same as he always looked.

**Author's Notes: **I had some trouble writing this chapter, and I'm still not satisfied with it… But do tell me your thoughts! _One person will be betrayed: _Wormtail's hand betrayed him. _One person isn't how they seem: _What seemed like Lucius walking in to get the antidote was actually Narcissa. _One person will remember who they really are: _Draco remembers that he is a Malfoy. Review!


	17. Quiet Sobs

**Author's Notes: **Ugh, fanfiction does the weirdest things to your usernames. Some of the reviewers' names don't turn up on the actual chapter for some odd reason, and I'm sorry about that. _Anyhow, _school will be beginning soon for me (September 10th), so updates will slow. I'm attending a new school this year, and it requires me to be there seven days a week from morning to night, so I have no idea how often I can update. Thank you all for the brilliant reviews, and do comment on this chappie!

_Reviewers: .Light, PravusAuror, learn to dance in the rain, Drew Secrets, XxBloodThornxX, Panther Eyes, Loslote, SakuraHasGreenEyes, Owlkin, Purple-moon02, ayeayerica, SuperH31265, SharpestSatire, Luna Rose Lily, miss. jenny .g-baby, midnight shadow of darkness, Anna. Rogue. Marie. Howlett, amber, Red5blood5rose, toogoode99, edwardsoneandonlylove, Laura, xxLittleMidgetLeprechaunxx, Natalie Field, Kimm Possible, Mugglebornsrule, mihri _

Shout-out to_ Laura: _Thank you for reviewing! Of course I care about your opinion (: Thank you for the recommendation, but I've already got the entire rest of the story planned out, with just some small spaces for changes or new ideas. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

O

Hermione was anxious for their return. A week had passed, and there was no sign of Harry, Ron, or Draco on the horizons. What if something went wrong? What if they were captured? Restlessly, she paced around the house, having nothing to do but help Fleur with the household chores.

However, at the moment, the floors were all squeaky clean, the dishes were washed, dried, and placed in the cabinets, the clothes were cleaned, and the windows were sparkling. Hermione tried to read, but found that she couldn't concentrate.

Closing '_The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7', _she placed the book on her nightstand, sighing as she did. She hoped that they were all right… Hermione absent-mindedly looked outside the window, and she spotted a lone figure sitting on a boulder. Dirty-blonde hair fluttered in the wind.

Hermione decided that Luna always had something interesting to say, so she exited her room and then slipped out of the front door, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she made her way towards Luna. A mixture of sand and gravel crunched under her feet, though the roaring and crashing of the waves muffled her footsteps. Wind tugged relentlessly at the tendrils of her hair, reminding her of small children stubbornly poking their parents and begging them to play with them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Luna said dreamily, never taking her silver eyes off of the waves. "Like a gift from nature."

Hermione nodded as she pulled herself onto the boulder and sat down next to the girl. The forceful wind made it much colder than it would've been, and Hermione curled up her legs and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I think that they'll be okay."

Blinking in confusion, Hermione tilted her head towards Luna. "What do you mean?"

Luna smiled as she lifted a hand towards the sky, as if to catch something. "You're worried about them: Harry, Ron, and Draco, I mean. But Harry is quite lucky, isn't he?"

"But you can't always depend on luck, Luna."

Luna smiled wider. "I think that Fate will keep Harry alive until the end."

"'The end'?"

"The war, of course," Luna traced invisible patterns in the wind, as if in a trance. "Harry will succeed in everything until he faces You-Know-Who. Whether or not he defeats You-Know-Who will depend on himself."

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together. "You mean to say that Harry cannot die until the crucial moment?"

"Yes," the girl turned to face Hermione, beaming. "Harry does not have the possibility of dying until he faces He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." She said this with such confidence that Hermione wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this statement.

"But if I stab Harry in the chest with a knife, he will surely die if no one attempts to save him, Luna."

Luna lifted her face towards the direction of the wind. "That is true. But you won't stab Harry with a knife, will you?"

"Of course not. But, hypothetically, if someone did so…"

"If anyone stabbed Harry, you would heal him."

"If I were captured––"

"Would you get captured?" Luna dangled her legs off the side of the boulder, kicking them back and forth.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "There is a possibility of it, though I hope not."

"I doubt you would get captured as long as Draco is here."

The pure honesty in Luna's voice made Hermione pause before answering. "Of course Draco's veela instincts would act in the case of me being in danger. But there is a possibility––"

"I'm not talking about Draco's veela instincts, Hermione. I think you know that," Luna said pensively, twirling a lock of hair in her small fingers. "A veela's mate isn't just anyone in the world. You are the perfect match for Draco, and Draco the perfect match for you."

"Draco? The perfect match for _me? _Are we talking about the same 'Draco' here? Malfoy is arrogant, mean, and he's tortured me with unkind words ever since first year." Hermione had believed it petty to bring up old grudges, but she wasn't going forget her many tears shed over Malfoy's careless words.

"I think that you forgive him," Luna replied. "You still remember the pain, but you no longer feel it. You may not love him yet, Hermione, but you will. Don't worry."

O

"Your mother was… nicer than I expected," Harry commented as they quickly slipped through multiple streets that all looked identical.

Draco gave him a dark glare. "A female veela is especially protective over her children," he said reluctantly. "The Dark Lord is angry with my family for 'letting' me run away with Hermione. A normal pureblood family would've disowned their heir if he ever betrayed them, but Mother refuses to disown me."

"Touching," Ron said mockingly. "Death Eater Mummy and Daddy love their dear Death Eater son."

There was a flash of white, and suddenly, Ron was pushed roughly against the wall of a brick building and Draco's wand was jabbing into his throat. Draco's eyes were dark with nearly tangible anger, and his fists were white. Tension crackled in the air.

"Ron!" Harry cried in alarm, and his wand was immediately pointed at Draco's head as a precaution.

Draco ignored Harry. "Say that one more time," he hissed, his wand poking deeper at Ron's throat.

There was a flash of fear in Ron's eyes, and you could see the internal struggle in his eyes: his pride or his safety? However, his own concern for his safety overruled his Gryffindor pride, and Ron stood still, his blue eyes mutinous, but not daring to say anything.

"That's right." Draco's wand was still digging into the redhead's neck painfully. "Don't you _dare_ say a single bloody _word _against my parents. You have _no idea _what life is like on the dark side; you only know about the easy and fluffy life of being a _blood-traitor_."

Ron lunged at Draco, knocking him to the ground. "At least my family doesn't believe in all that pureblooded rubbish that you go off about!" Ron shouted, punching Draco in the face, wands forgotten. A sharp crack and crunch was heard, and blood was gushing and pouring down Draco's face. The red looked considerably bright against his pale skin.

Draco retaliated with a sharp kick at Ron's stomach, which will definitely bruise. "You think that I _care _about the pureblood beliefs?" he snarled. "Have you forgotten that Hermione is muggleborn?"

"_Petrificus totalus!"_ Two consecutive spells hit the two fighting males, and they abruptly froze, Ron's arm frozen mid-punch. They were immobilized, as stiff as a board, and they collapsed onto the floor as if mere statues that were unbalanced

Harry walked up to them, his green eyes apologetic. However, his 'sorry' face was ruined when he glanced at their ridiculous positions: it was evident that he was trying to keep himself from smirking at the murderous expression on Draco's face and Ron's accusing eyes.

"Both of you look ridiculous right now," Harry remarked unnecessarily. Unable to keep it in, he smirked as the two frozen people glared at him even more furiously. No wonder the Sorting Hat had tried to place him in Slytherin. "However, in all seriousness, you will have to stop fighting. I can fix your nose, Malfoy, but seeing as _you _broke my nose in sixth year, I don't think I will. That means that you will have to suffer from 'Mione's wrath. As for you, Ron," he turned to his best mate and gave him his best 'I'm sorry' expression, "it had to be done. Hermione will have some paste for that bruised stomach."

He knelt down and observed the two. "Malfoy, you should refrain from saying the words 'blood-traitor', the 'M' word, and anything related to inferior blood. It's not doing anything to help your situation. And Ron… since 'Mione trusts Malfoy, we ought to trust him as well, whether we want to or not."

Harry glanced at one to another once again. "Since I'm tired of talking to myself, I'll remove the Body-Bind on you two. But when I do, both of you are not to attack each other… or me, as a matter of fact. Understood?" No answer. "Er… right. We'll run back to the tent, pack everything, and apparate _immediately _back to Shell Cottage. _Finite incantatem." _

Both Ron and Draco immediately crumpled to the ground and scrambled up into standing position the moment the spell was lifted. Wands were pointed, but no spells were cast as they glowered at each other, daring the other to make the first move.

"Enough, the two of you," Harry sighed, his respect for Hermione rising. How in the world did she balance everyone? "Cast your Disillusionment charms and we'll make our way back into the forest."

He regretted speaking at all, for both Draco and Ron turned to glare at him instead. Harry subconsciously backed away from them, holding his wand in front of him like a sword. "O-or you two can take my cloak, if you'd rather… do that… instead… of casting… the charm…" his voice became smaller and smaller until you could barely hear the word 'charm'.

Grumbling under his breath, Draco cast the Disillusionment charm on himself, and Ron reluctantly copied him. Releasing a sigh of relief, Harry pulled the invisibility cloak over his head and disappeared under it.

O

Where were they? Why weren't they back yet? What if Harry was hurt… or captured? What if the only hope for the Wizarding World was killed because he was trying to get an antidote for his muggleborn friend? She would never be able to forgive herself.

And… what if Ron was hurt? Ron, who she loved beyond belief…

At this thought, Hermione paused. Did she love Ron? She had undoubtedly loved him in sixth year… the jealousy and anger directed at Lavender proved that. She loved his smile, his laugh, and his quirks…

Wasn't there a saying that stated that love isn't about loving someone despite their flaws: it's about loving someone _including_ their flaws? Suffice to say, Hermione did not love Ron's flaws. On the contrary, she hated them. She hated how sensitive he was: she couldn't do or say much without offending him. Not only that, but he was insensitive to others. He hurt her many times, possibly as many times as _Malfoy_ hurt her…

Malfoy. She sighed. She admitted that she was just as worried about his safety as she was worried about Harry or Ron. If Voldemort ever got hold of Draco, he would suffer _greatly. _Hermione would never stop hurting if Draco died because of her. All he had done after his Veela self was activated was protect her, and she regretted not showing him more… gratefulness, perhaps? Appreciation? Kindness?

Sometimes, it was hard to look at Draco without seeing the twelve-year-old boy who called her a 'mudblood'. Then again, it was hard to look at Ron and not remember all of his spiteful words that were said in the midst of anger.

Hermione buried her face in her hands. Realization hit her hard.

_She was not in love with Ron anymore. _

"'ermione?" This was Fleur's soft voice, and she looked up to see the stunning French veela standing in the doorway. Hermione immediately sat up straight and removed her hands from her face. Fleur looked hesitant, almost nervous, which made her undoubtedly curious. "I waz wondering eef I could talk to you for a moment."

Hermione nodded slowly, wondering what this was all about. The women smiled at her and floated into the room. Hermione was always jealous of Fleur's natural beauty and grace–– how in the world did she carry herself in such an elegant way? Fleur's beauty made her feel plain and black-and-white.

Fleur sat next to her, the bed dipping ever so slightly when she did. "'ermione… I want to talk to you about Draco."

Ah. Of course. Straight to the point.

"I… I know zat 'e waz 'orrible to you when you were younger," Fleur said. "Eet eez true zat mageec cannot recreate love. 'owever, Veela are deefferent. Yes, ze mageec cannot recreate love; 'owever, Veela mageec chooses ze Veela's most compateeble mate. Een return, ze Veela eez ze mate's most compateeble person."

Luna's words echoed in Hermione mind as she sighed. She just couldn't imagine… _Draco Malfoy, _her perfect companion? It just seemed so… _wrong. _

"Contrary to what you may believe, I am not 'ere to talk to you about geeving 'im a chance." Hermione looked at Fleur in surprise. "I am talking to you about a very… serious weakness within 'im."

"A weakness?" Despite how Draco refused to acknowledge any weaknesses, Hermione knew that he had _many. _Which weakness was Fleur talking about?

Fleur began subconsciously braiding her hair, looking progressively more worried. "Draco Malfoy eez a very… unloving person. 'e does not naturally love other people, or even care. As you effect him, zere weel be a time when 'e doubts that 'e eez… heemself."

"What do you mean?"

Fleur took a deep breath. "'e weel theenk zat ze Veela eez changing 'im into someone else. 'e weel try to push you away from him, but zat weel 'urt 'im even more. You must not let 'im push you away, no matter _what." _

Hermione knit her eyebrows together. "He will… He will doubt himself? And he'll try to distance himself from me?"

"'e fears love."

"He…" Hermione spluttered, eyes wide. But how could one _fear _love? That was horrible! "But…"

"Promeese me, 'ermione, zat you weel keep 'im closer zan ever."

"But… But that would be strengthening the Veela's bond. I haven't… I haven't decided if I want to spend the rest of my life with him! I don't… But…"

Fleur looked straight into Hermione's eyes, looking grave and strangely wise. "I zeenk zat you 'ave already decided to save 'im, 'ermione. Eet eez not een your nature to let anyone die."

Tears began leaking out of Hermione's eyes. She had known all along. She had known all along that her final decision would be to save Draco, to save his life with hers. She would never let him die, especially after all that he had done for her.

Fleur leaned forward and embraced her, rubbing her back.

"But… I don't… I don't love him… My life… Ron…"

"I don't zeenk zat you are een love with Ron anymore. You love 'im, but you are not _een _love. You weel love Draco, eventually," Fleur said softly, pulling back and lightly brushing her delicate fingers through Hermione's thick tresses.

Hermione was suddenly fiercely reminded of her mother, and she yearned for her parents as Fleur comforted her. Her dead parents… Without warning, she suddenly blurted out, "You're going to make a great mother someday, Fleur."

Fleur blinked in surprise, her hand stilling in Hermione hair. A huge, beaming smile blossomed on her face, radiating beauty and dimming everything in the room.

However, heavy footsteps interrupted whatever thanks Fleur was about to give Hermione, and Bill, panting, appeared at the door. "They're back," he said quickly. "Harry, Ron, and Malfoy are in the kitchen. Malfoy seems… crazed. He's hurting… I think that Hermione should go and––"

But Hermione was already pushing past him and dashing towards the kitchen as fast as her legs could carry her. Elation pulsed in her veins. They were back. They were safe. Her drying tears still glistened on her face, but she did not bother wiping them away as she launched herself into the kitchen.

Ron, supported by Harry, was being carefully lowered into a chair, but, before she could worry about them, she saw the identical grins of greeting on their faces. Her eyes immediately zoomed in on Draco, who was clutching the countertop with a look of intense pain on his face. His nose seemed broken, and blood covered his face like red paint on a white canvas.

Draco's head snapped up when she entered the room: his nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened into a color that was nearly black. He took one look at her tear-streaked face and was holding her in his arms within the next second. He was trembling and shaking, and Hermione hesitantly wrapped her arms around his waist. Slowly but surely, the trembling subsided, and he felt warmer. His arms were stronger around her body, and he was crushing her into him, as if afraid to let her go.

She could feel his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. One of his hands moved to her arms, lightly stroking it, and then, it moved up, caressed her shoulders, and cupped her neck, sliding to the back and then drifting down her spine. She shivered slightly when she felt his lips at her ear, and she could feel his warm breath wash over her skin.

"Mine," he breathed softly into her ear, so quietly that she barely heard it. She shivered again, and she felt him lift his head and rest his chin on her head, his hands wandering up and down her back.

"Er…" This was Harry, who was pushing Ron down by his shoulders to keep him from rising. Hermione immediately leapt away from Draco, and she saw Harry, looking immensely embarrassed, and Ron, who seemed repulsed and revolted. Blood rushed to her face, and she furiously tried to hide her face within the curtains of her hair.

Draco growled lowly at Harry, and, without another word, grabbed Hermione and threw her over his shoulder as if a sack of potatoes. Hermione let out a surprised yelp and began fighting him, for she was certainly not one to be manhandled, and gave Harry and Ron a helpless, pleading look.

Ron made a move forward, as if planning to grab her and fight Draco at the same time, but Harry quickly stopped him with an arm and an apologetic look at Hermione.

Hermione cursed under her breath and began pounding her little fists at his back and kicking at him with her legs and feet, but she failed to even bruise him as he swept down the hallway, past Bill, who were staring, open-mouthed, at them, past Fleur, who nodded at them smugly, past Luna, who was dancing around on her tip-toes, and into the boys' shared room, where Draco threw her unceremoniously on his bed.

"Mal––"

His face darkened, making Hermione cut off abruptly, looking at him with fear etched on her face. She tried to reach for her wand, but she couldn't seem to find it.

"My name, Hermione," he said quietly. He took a step towards her, and she quivered, unable to speak.

"_My name," _Draco snarled, a wild look in his eyes. His arms were pushed on either side of her body, trapping her against the wall. His face, beautiful but angry, was incredibly close to hers. She could see the specks of silver within the depths of his dark eyes, and her eyes travelled over his sloping nose, which was covered in blood, and to his lips. Quickly, her eyes slid back up to his.

"_My name, Hermione_," he repeated, for the third time. He leaned forward, his hands, which were placed on the wall, were curling into fists. "Say it."

"D-Draco," Hermione whimpered, trying to melt into the wall. A rosy blush painted her cheeks when she saw his lips curl upwards into a satisfied smile.

He lifted a hand and lightly brushed his knuckles across her hot cheeks, leaving a residue of tingles. "Pretty mate," Draco breathed.

"I… er… Draco?" Hermione's eyes darted around the room, trying to find a way to escape. "You… Are you… all right?"

Draco stared at her blankly, his hand frozen on her cheek. He gazed at her for a moment, and Hermione watched, fascinated, as the dark areas of his eyes lightened into grey. He was staring, unblinkingly and unseeingly, at her.

Robotically, his hand fell to his side. He backed away from her, his eyes unreadable, his jaw clenched.

"I… Draco?"

"Get out," he said quietly, though it seemed painful to say those words. Slowly, he lifted an arm and pointed to the door.

"Draco––"

"Out." His teeth were gritted, and he seemed to be resisting against something, for he began shaking in effort.

Hermione pushed herself off of the bed, and, after glancing quickly at Draco's trembling body, she darted out of the room, running towards the kitchen. As she did, she heard the familiar sound of a certain vase being smashed against the wall and the sound of the most painful and quiet sobs that she had ever heard.

**Author's Notes: **A reunion! Yay! Um… yes, Draco's nose is still broken. No one has yet to fix it. I know that I am horrible at writing Fleur's accent… apologies. I don't mean to offend anyone! Please do review!


	18. Author's Note

**Author's Notes: **Firstly, this is not a new chapter.

Secondly, I'M SO SORRY. I know that I haven't updated since summer, but school really has been busy and stressing! I've been sick with a fever at least five times in the last couple of months, and I've practically been _living _at school and drowning in work.

Thirdly, _when will I update again? _I'm not sure. After not writing for last half year, I'm not really submerged in my stories as much anymore. Furthermore, I'm sure that many readers have forgotten this story by now. However, I may continue when summer vacation comes along… which is in two months.

Thank you to any fans that have stuck with me from the very beginning.

_-chrissy_


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